The Reunion
by fangirl1982
Summary: Starts in the summer of 1999-2000, with Gabrielle and Jack as teenagers embarking on a relationship best by betrayal and miscommunication. Gets raunchy later on.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey guys! This is my new fic. Starts off in the summer of 1999-2000 and touches events in 2005 and early 2006 before kicking off again when Gabrielle first joins the ED. Some of the conon/timeline is a little off (Zoe/Bianca/Spence's arrivals etc) but it should stll flow fairly well. Enjoy!**_

**Chapter One**

_1999-2000_

Gabrielle Jaeger scraped her feet along the pavement of a nondescript Canberra street. Two days, and she hated the nation's capital. It was simultaneously too big and too small. Too small, because it was geographically smaller than the farm in southern New South Wales that she came from, and too big, because even for a city whose population was dwarfed by Sydney and Melbourne, the cities it was located in between, it was far more densely populated than her family farm.

She hated it.

She had been sent here to stay with relatives because her dad thought she had been spending too much time with men. Well, one man in particular – Steve Taylor. The adult that she was close to being understood why her father wasn't happy with her spending time with a man ten years older than her with less than a sterling reputation; the seventeen-year-old that she was deeply resented being moved from one location to another because of her father's judgement. How the hell did he know better than her what was best for her? Didn't it occur to him that she was old enough to make her own choices?

Not for the first time in the last year, she wished her mother was still alive. But Laura Jaeger had died a year ago from breast cancer. It was part of why Gabrielle had started seeking out the company of a man much older than her; Steve had understood her pain more than her silly high school friends who were still preoccupied with getting Paul Croft, who, as the good-looking son of the town's mayor – and the Crofts had been one of the town's founding families, who was even more prestigious than simply being the mayor – was by far the most eligible guy in Widgee, southern New South Wales.

She sighed. Country people could be so narrow-minded, and in possession of tunnel vision to boot. Not that Canberra seemed much different. Her aunt and uncle were boring. They knew nothing about teenage girls, having no children of their own. Gabrielle bet that she could pull the wool over their eyes easy. Not that she planned on – she had never been that type of girl – but with an adolescence sneer she thought that she _could_ if she wanted to.

She entered the War Museum. Not that it was of any interest to her, but she didn't see anything else to do. She wandered aimlessly through the museum, scowling as she went. There was no-one here even close to her age. This was boring. She was going home. She would rather be at home alone than at this boring museum.

"You look bored. Your parents make you come?" came a voice, and Gabrielle looked up to see a very good-looking young man – he couldn't be much older than her and had he most dazzling green eyes which seemed to have flecks of grey in them. She blushed, realising she was staring.

"Um... no. I'm staying with relatives and have nothing to do," she admitted.

He laughed. "Canberra can be like that," he said. "But I like it."

"You – you _like_ – all this boring stuff?" she asked incredulously.

He laughed again. "I do," he said good-naturedly. "My dad thinks I'm strange like that. So does my step-mother, for that matter. I just figure that in a few year's time, I'll be making more than them and my half-brothers combined."

Gabrielle noticed the slight stress on the _half_-brothers, and couldn't help but wonder if theirs was a strained relationship. She got on quite well with her own brother, although at ten, he could be quite annoying at times. She felt sad, thinking about Ben, and it showed on her face.

"Did I say something that bothered you?" he asked.

"Wasn't your fault. Just thinking about my kid brother."

"You seem a bit old to be homesick," he noted. "Not here of your own volition?"

"Hardly," she said.

He cocked his head, analysing the situation. She would about be the same age as him, maybe a year or two younger, an age where she straddled adolescence and adulthood. It was an age he would have remembered, had he ever had the chance to enjoy his adolescence – or his childhood. But that was neither here nor there for the time being. "Let me guess," he said. "Interest from an inappropriate male?"

Gabrielle blushed. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Right age, attractive girl – it was the most obvious choice. How inappropriate was he?"

"Ten years older," she admitted.

He whistled appreciatively. "Sorry, but I'm on your folks side here."A forlorn look crossed her face, and he felt sorry for making fun of her. "Look, I don't suppose you're old enough for me to buy you a drink?" he asked. She shook her head, looking – and _feeling_ – even more forlorn. A cute guy was asking her out for a drink, and she was too young to accept. "A coffee, then," he offered. He didn't know what it was about this girl – she was, by her own admission, under eighteen, and while he himself was only nineteen, he had no interest in people he couldn't go to the pub with – but there was something about her that made him want to reach out to her.

"A coffee would be nice," she said shyly. Then realising that they didn't even know each other's names, she said, "I'm Gabrielle. Gabrielle Jaeger."

He smiled and offered his hand. "Jack Quade," he said. They shook hands, and when he withdrew his hands from hers, he brought his arm lightly around her back, guiding her out of the museum and towards a small coffee shop he knew that _almost_ met his exacting standards.

Gabrielle found herself telling Jack everything leading up to her semi-exile in Canberra – her mum dying, her interest in Steve, his reciprocated interest. "It was nice," she admitted. "He understood me better than boys my age – or girls my age, for that matter."

Jack looked thoughtful. "I've never lost a parent, so I can't say that I understand, but I get that it must have been terrible. But this guy – please don't take this the wrong way, but there's no way that someone who's twenty-seven would be interested in a seventeen-year-old for any reason that would withstand any moral inspection. Hell, I'm nineteen and it would take a pretty special seventeen-year-old to interest me."

Gabrielle blushed at that. "I must seem like a kid to you," she said.

"You? No. There's something about you that seems older than you are. More –" Jack mulled over his choice of words. _Sophisticated_ was the wrong one, because Gabrielle lacked the glamour of several of the seventeen-year-olds that populated Sydney's high schools, let alone that of a young woman a few years older. And yet there was an intelligence and sense of groundedness – interest in twenty-seven-year-old men notwithstanding – that Jack didn't see often, let alone in seventeen-year-olds. "Mature," he offered.

Gabrielle blushed again. "I'm not very pretty," was the first thing she thought to say. The funny thing was, she and Paul Croft were good friends, so he paid her the kind of attention that most of the teenage girls in Widgee envied, but as far as the other guys went, they paid more attention to people like her best friend Ashley.

Jack wasn't stupid enough to argue that; she was never going to be a rival for Elle McPherson, and to pretend otherwise would only be condescending an intelligent girl. "Looks aren't everything," he said. "My step-mother used to be a stunner, and she's so miserable that she drank away her looks. I'd rather be with someone who's smart and loyal and makes me laugh."

_Smart, loyal, makes me laugh_. He could be describing her. She found herself blushing again, felt for an idiot for blushing so much, and blushed even harder. "I'm sorry, am I embarrassing you?" Jack asked.

"No... it's just that I'm not used to being around someone like you. They don't make boys like you back home." Then she blushed again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a boy." Jack might be only nineteen, but there was no mistaking him for a boy.

"It's OK. And for what it's worth, I think it's cute. You don't have any pretentions. I like that. This city is teeming with pretentious people. I _like_ that you're not like that."

She tried not to blush again, without much success. "So – you've always lived here?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Sydney boy, born and bred. I go to uni here."

"Then why are you still here? It's Christmas holidays. I thought all the unis were closed."

"They are. There's skeleton staff and some of the boarding units are set aside for people like me, who don't go home between semesters." There was a sad, bitter note to that explanation that made Gabrielle wonder if he was an orphan. "God, no," Jack said. "My parents are still alive – or at least, I think my mum still is. She, uh, left me with my dad when I was eighteen months old." Even to Gabrielle's naive ears, _left_ meant _abandoned_. "I don't get along with my dad and step-mum. I have a scholarship, board and stipend, so I may as well stay where I am." He shrugged like it was no big deal that he had no family worth speaking to. "Canberra's not as bad as it first seems – and believe me, I thought it was a hole when I first got here. If AUMEL didn't have the reputation that it does, I would have turned around and taken up my University of Sydney scholarship."

Gabrielle's eyes widened in appreciation. Even a backwards country girl like her had heard of the Australian University of Medicine, Engineering and Law. And he had gotten a _scholarship_? "You must be really smart," she said.

"I guess," he said, like getting a scholarship to a world-renowned university was no big deal. "Intelligence isn't really appreciated where I come from. I think my step-mother would have forgiven me sooner for being the next Hitler than for being smarter than her son."

Gabrielle's eyes went wide. While she understood in her head that some families didn't get along, could be cruel to one another and make it vital for them not to live together, her own upbringing had been so loving and sheltered that she struggled to understand it in reality. "You're joking."

"Fraid not. But it's no big deal. It's just made me work harder to get what I want. And one of these days, I'm going to be making far more money than he ever did and he and my stepmother can whistle for their retirement home down payment." He spoke this with just the right amount of pleasure that made Gabrielle smile.

They ended up whiling away the afternoon with easy conversation. Jack was surprised at how intelligent, informed and _un_self-absorbed Gabrielle was. Even though he was technically one himself, he found teenagers – particularly teenage girls – to be vacuous and dull. If he never had to listen to someone rave about Britney Spears or Gucci handbags again, he would consider himself lucky. And she was tall, too, only ten centimetres or so shorter than him, and given that he was one-ninety, that was saying something. Certainly, if he was to consider dating someone younger than him, it would be someone like Gabrielle.

"I'll take you home," he offered when he realised how late it was. "When are your aunt and uncle expecting you?"

"They don't care, as long as I'm home for dinner – or tell them before that I won't be. I'd appreciate a lift, though. I'm used to being able to go wherever I like on a quad. The road rules are daunting, let alone mastering public transport."

Jack laughed at that. "Let me guess – you can drive, you just don't have a piece of paper from the Department of Transport that says you can?" he asked. Gabrielle nodded sheepishly. Growing up on a farm, she had learnt at an early age how to operate several different pieces of machinery and could handle a four-wheel drive as well as a tractor or quad bike – she just didn't, as Jack had said, have that piece of paper from the Department of Transport. "My dad's a mechanic, and while I'm a _total_ disappointment in his eyes for what he sees as my complete ineptitude with anything mechanical, I grew up with some knowledge of cars – how they run, how to fix them, how to drive them. By the time I actually _got_ my licence, I was somewhat over it. I also inherited my dad's somewhat casual attitude towards the road rules," he admitted.

"Should I be worried?" she asked.

"You want to walk home?"

"I'll take my chances," she decided. She and Jack continued to talk on the way home. "Well... thanks for the lift – and the coffee," she said shyly when he dropped her off at her aunt and uncle's house. She gave it a few seconds, hoping Jack might say or do something, then when he didn't, unbuckled her seatbelt and let herself out of the car.

Jack watched her for a few seconds before he realised she hadn't acted the way he was used to women acting. He was used to them being forward and letting them know that they were interested in him in the form of phone numbers and invitations. But Gabrielle wasn't like most women – _that_ he had already figured out. "Gabrielle," he called out the door. She stopped and turned around so she was facing him, then stepped back towards him when she saw the expression on his face was an interested, welcoming one. Jack quickly scribbled his number on the first piece of paper he could find – which happened to be his semester results, but he had already known he had gotten all HDs, so it was no biggie. "Look, if you want, give me a call – Canberra's not too bad a place after a while, and I know my way around. That is, if you want to."

Gabrielle almost snatched the paper off him in her eagerness. "That sounds good," she said, trying to keep the grin off her face. Steve Taylor was far from her mind as she turned back around and headed into the house. Once she was in the house, she squealed with delight. A good-looking med student was interested in _her_. It was almost too good to be true!

* * *

"I can't let you spend this kind of money on me," Gabrielle said a few days later over dinner – or, rather, what Jack had intended to be dinner, and what Gabrielle was equally intending _not_ to be dinner. She had never been to dinner at a city restaurant before, and at these prices, she never intended on doing it.

"It's fine. I wanted to take you somewhere nice."

"You're a student, you can't exactly be flush," she protested.

"For a student who doesn't get a cent from his parents, I do quite well," he said. "My scholarship, board and meal plan means I have practically no expenses – although whoever budgeted for my meal plan must have been using an anorexic vegetarian as their standard. Then I get Centerlink and cash-in-hand tutoring. It's more than what I need, given it's just me, and it means that between semesters I can have fun."

Gabrielle smiled. It all sounded so reasonable when he explained it like that. She shivered with delight. When she had called Jack, she had thought that maybe he would show her around Canberra or something – not a _date_. He had asked her out on a _date_. She, Gabrielle Jaeger, who was hardly the prettiest girl around even by Widgee standards, was on a date with a very good-looking medical student from the biggest, most cosmopolitan city in the country – and he wanted to go on a date with _her_.

"What?" Jack asked when he saw her smiling dreamily.

"Nothing," she said. "I just – always thought my first date would be in the town pub. There's not exactly a variety of things to do, places to go."

"I always thought _my_ first date would be one of the working-class pubs around my area – I mean, the area I grew up in," Jack admitted. "There wasn't much more beyond that and McDonalds."

"Well, you have us beat on the McDonalds," she said, then she realised what Jack had meant. "Wait – this is your first date?" she asked. Jack nodded slightly, and Gabrielle was flabbergasted. "But – but – you're so – I would have thought you've had plenty of girlfriends," she said.

"I don't date," he said casually, and Gabrielle was left under no illusions that although he didn't date, he was hardly a virgin. "At least not before tonight." And there was a note in his voice that made Gabrielle squirm with delight. Was there something about her that interested Jack enough to take her out, even though there were far more beautiful women out there who he _wasn't_ interested in dating?

The night went well – fantastically well. It was way beyond Gabrielle's greatest fantasies about what her first date would be like... and Jack was way beyond her fantasies about what her first _boyfriend_ would be like. She blushed slightly at that. One date hardly made a relationship, she knew. It was just that she got on _so well_ with Jack that it was difficult _not_ to think of a future with him. He was intelligent and sophisticated without making her feel immature. E made her think and made her laugh – all in the space of a few hours.

Afterwards, they went for a walk along the foreshore before he took her home. "I had a really good time," he said when he walked her to the door, and was surprised by how much he meant it. 'Really good time' didn't really cover it; he couldn't remember having this much _fun_ – good, clean fun – in his whole life, and he would never have thought he could enjoy himself like this with someone who wasn't even old enough to drink. She was intelligent and insightful way beyond her age, and had an honesty and complete lack of pretentions that he found enchanting. He had thought he was happy with women who sought knowledge and information as obsessively as he did, and yet – Gabrielle was nothing like the women he usually socialised with – _dated_ was far too kind a word for it – yet tonight had been the perfect night. He could see himself dating her; he could see her as his girlfriend.

"Me, too," she said. She shivered in anticipation. Was Jack going to kiss her? What did he expect of her? He had admitted that he didn't date, although he was hardly a virgin, which meant he had to engaged in casual sex and friends-with-benefits arrangements, which meant that he slept with women without dating them – so what would he expect of her, since he had actually taken her out on a date and paid and everything?

Jack leaned in to kiss her. Instinctively, he knew that it was her first kiss – Christ, the girl had barely known what to do when he had gone to take her hand – and was as gentle and non-threatening as he knew how – far more so than he thought himself capable of. He kissed her on the lips very softly, closed-mouth, with all the heat he might have demonstrated towards a sister, had he had one. He felt in her body language – the way she trembled slightly in a way he knew was a good thing, the way her breathing got very shallow – that she wanted it. He ran his tongue over her lips, savouring the taste of her, before gently probing her mouth with it. She met his tongue eagerly – if a touch awkwardly – and kissed him back as well as she could manage given she hadn't done it before.

It wasn't difficult to get the hang of it, especially with someone as patient and understanding as Jack was, and before too long, they were kissing against the front door. After a few minutes, she got a little more confident and brought her hands up to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. He felt – and smelt, and tasted – clean, like soap and shampoo and toothpaste that were actually breath mints. Whatever it was, it was heavenly, and no fantasy in the world could have prepared her for this.

He ran his hands the length of her bare arms and brought them around her back, drawing her tightly against him so she was wedged between his body and the wall – and it was hard to tell which was harder, although Jack felt far more comfortable than the heavy oak door. She couldn't think of anything she would rather be doing than kissing Jack. It felt so wonderfully warm and sexy without being sleazy... she felt Jack dig his fingers slightly into the waistband of her skirt, and tensed slightly, remembering what she had thought just minutes before – what was Jack expecting of her? "Jack," she said softly, torn between pulling away and cooling things down a little and continuing with the wonderful kissing and maybe giving him the wrong idea. "I, um..."

Jack knew from her tone exactly what she was trying to say. He made the decision for her and pulled away. "I understand," he said softly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything."

"But – you must be used to – you must have expectations," she said, suddenly feeling miserable for all that she had felt wonderful less than a minute before.

He cocked his head and looked at her inquisitively. He felt a sudden pang of conscience. She certainly wasn't like anyone else he had dated – there was that word again, _dated_. He didn't date. He just slept around – slept around with women far more experienced than Gabrielle. Hell, he wasn't sure that he could even _call_ Gabrielle a woman. She was certainly younger, and less experienced, then anyone he had come into contact with in the past three years – and that included himself. She was an innocent girl with no real idea of how ugly human beings could behave towards one another, and he should sent her back to the country life she was familiar with to find someone who was just as ignorance of the ugliness of human beings as she was.

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do that.

"What I've expected in the past has nothing to do with what I expect now," he said, finding that he meant it. "I like you and I don't want to hurt you by making you do something you don't want to. Whatever you want to do – you set the pace."

The look of relief on her face was worth any uncertainty he felt about being able to restrain himself to go at Gabrielle's pace. "I'd like it if you kissed me some more," she said hopefully.

"Done," he said, and leaned in to kiss him again.

* * *

"Who's the kid?" Bianca Miller asked, watching Jack and Gabrielle over her cigarette and gin and tonic at a university quiz night. It was supposed to be a dry event, but the organisers of AUMEL events had long since given up on trying to make their study-hard-play-hard students adhere to that. They had means of smuggling sneaking in alcohol that hardened alcoholics hadn't heard of.

"Some girl he's been seeing," her 'friend' – doppelganger was closer to it, because even at AUMEL they had social hierarchies, and Bianca's looks and intelligence guaranteed her a place as one of the most popular students, despite her complete lack of other qualities, and naturally a popular girl needed doppelgangers – Jane Grey said disparagingly. She didn't get what Jack saw in Gabrielle, either. She was plain. And so _tall_. OK, so that kind of worked when you were as tall as Jack, but still, women weren't supposed to be that tall. It was unfeminine.

"Haven't seen her around much," Bianca said, thinking that even so, it was more than he was _usually_ seen with one particular woman.

"That's 'cos she's only seventeen," Jane said with a giggle.

Bianca's eyes bugged out. "What?" she asked. Jack was notorious for only seeing women older than him. Which wasn't that surprising when you thought about it, given he had started uni when he was sixteen so pretty much _every_ female he came into contact with was older than him.

"Seventeen," Jane said. "That's why you haven't seen much of her. She can't come to any of the over-eighteen things." And given that AUMEL students tended to study hard and play just as hard, most of their socialising was done in the pubs and clubs of Canberra.

Bianca took a long drag of her cigarette. It was a foul habit, she knew, and as a medical student, she really ought to know better. She kept meaning to give it up, but at times like this – "She got anything to recommend for her?" she asked.

"Country girl from some place near the border, I think," Jane said. She knew, actually, but didn't want to appear too informed, and therefore, too desperate. AUMEL gossip was surprisingly well-informed on Gabrielle Jaeger, given that she wasn't a student there and Jack was his usual tight-lipped self about the person he was involved with. "Quite well off for farmers, but hardly wealthy," Jane said, as if no-one had ever gotten substantially wealthy from farming.

"I wonder what he sees in her, then," Bianca said, carefully concealing the jealousy she felt. She hadn't managed to get Jack to look at her twice, let alone take her out, let alone take her as his plus-one to university events. And they would make such a _good_ couple, too. Both highly intelligent and extremely good looking. True, he was a couple of years younger than her, but given that he was so smart and so driven that they were in the same year now, Bianca thought she could overlook that. So it infuriated her that he had barely looked at her in all the months she had been trying to get his attention, and now he had showed up to a university social event with some schoolgirl on his arm with absolutely nothing to recommend for her.

Jane shrugged. "She's probably good in bed," she suggested. That was Jane's answer to why _any_ man would be interested in any woman other than her.

Bianca laughed meanly. "I doubt it. Look at her. She's probably still a virgin." She eyed Gabrielle's wholesomeness with contempt. She looked like what she was – a teenage farmgirl with no interest in looking older or more sophisticated than what she was. And Jack seemed captivated with her. What was _up_ with that?

* * *

"Who's that girl?" Gabrielle asked Jack a little nervously. She wasn't feeling very comfortable. She knew Jack meant well, trying to include her in his uni stuff when he could, but she found herself far removed from these highly intelligent, hard-studying AUMEL students.

"What girl?" Jack asked. He was bored. A few weeks ago, he had enjoyed being at something like this, and would have been right up there, sneaking alcohol in and laughing at the organisers who tried to stop it. But now he would have been quite content to cuddle up on the couch with Gabrielle watching videos. Gabrielle pointed, none too subtly. Jack didn't call her on it. He liked that she didn't care if she appeared to be graceless in pointing; she simply saw it as the simplest way to express her thoughts. "Oh, her. Blonde's Jane Grey. Not sure on the brunette – Bree, or something like that."

"You, uh, have a history with her? Jane, I mean?" Gabrielle asked. Normally forthright, she was always a little hesitant about asking about Jack's history with women. She knew he had a lot of sexual experience – you didn't need to ask to know that. She didn't like asking about the past, because she was afraid to draw attention to the fact that she was nothing like the intelligent, beautiful, sexually experienced women that he had previously been involved with. Certainly, it didn't seem to be an issue – he had never pushed her to do anything, and often needed to be verbally encouraged to take things a degree or two further – but she could never shake the feeling that going so slow wasn't particularly comfortable for him. Like it was so high school.

Jack made a face. "God, no. They're part of this clique of girls I try to steer clear of. I only remember her name 'cos Jane Grey was the first Queen of England, and that Jane –" he jerked his head in the blonde's direction, "certainly acts like she's a queen." Gabrielle laughed at that. She and Jack had been seeing each other for less than a month, but she had already realised that Jack loved to learn, and not just about medicine, and he had an understanding of a broad range of subjects, including history. It didn't surprise her that he would remember someone's name because they shared it with a pivotal, if little know, historical figure.

Jack stretched and yawned. He was _really_ bored, and having Gabrielle leaning into him like that was only making him want to be alone with her even more. "What do you say we ditch this place," he said.

"But – these are your friends," she protested, although there was nothing she would rather do that ditch these highly driven intellectuals, many of whom looked down on her for her family being involved in something as lowly as farming, and spend the rest of the night with Jack.

Jack shrugged. 'Friends' was putting it a bit too strongly. He didn't make friends too easily; his childhood had scarred him from getting to intimately involved with people too quickly – with the exception of Gabrielle. No-one would miss him too much, and the ones that did would understand. Besides, he was well aware of the esteem he was held in as the current 'boy wonder' – his IQ was among the highest in a university known for attracting the best and brightest not only in Australia but around the world, and he was only nineteen to boot. So long as he continued to bring in the HD's, he was allowed to blow off informal social events like this. "Let's split," he said. It didn't take him long to say his goodbyes and usher Gabrielle out of the place, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, announcing to the world that she was his – and he was hers.

Bianca watched him go. So did several other people. Word was getting out that Jack Quade, who, by his own admission, didn't date, had been seeing the same girl for nearly a month now – and most likely not even sleeping with her. What he saw in her, no-one was sure, but it had galled more than a few women who hadn't gotten past a few nights of casual sex with him – if they had gotten him to pay them attention at all.

Bianca was in the latter category. And she couldn't stand the fact that this teenaged country hick who was at _least_ five years younger than her, not to mention vastly less sexually experienced, could capture and hold Jack's interest like that, while Jack kept calling her 'Bree' and 'Bridget'. It didn't make her want Jack any less, though; in fact, it only made her eyes gleam competitively. Whatever charms Gabrielle held, they would pale eventually; she lacked the polish, intelligence and sexual experience that Bianca knew she possessed. Whatever trip Jack was on right now, he would tire of Gabrielle before too long. And if it was too long for Bianca's liking, well, she could always _help_ him tire of her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Can you pass the gravy, please, Mr. Jaeger," Jack asked, politeness epitomised. He felt uncomfortable in a family situation – it had been three years since he had been in his own family home, and he didn't date to have to meet parents, at least not before Gabrielle – but he was acquitting himself nicely. It had mildly amused him when Russel Jaeger had made a big show of 'his' room – the emphasis meaning that he wouldn't be sharing with Gabrielle – because it was a moot point. Much to his friends' amusement, he wasn't sleeping with Gabrielle.

It wasn't that he didn't want to; it was Gabrielle's choice, a combination of verbal refusal and dozens of instances of body language. She wasn't ready to sleep with him yet, and he found himself surprisingly patient with her. He could barely believe it himself. He'd never waited six days before, let alone six weeks. But Gabrielle fascinated him and time spent with her was the happiest and calmest that he'd ever known.

So when she'd asked him to come down to meet her dad and brother over Christmas, he had agreed – although somewhat reluctantly, because he didn't feel comfortable around parents. Especially dads. Just because he didn't date didn't mean he wasn't familiar with the ordeal of meeting your girlfriend's parents.

_Girlfriend. _Gabrielle, his girlfriend. It had a nice ring to it. Certainly nice enough that he was here.

Ben Jaeger, Gabrielle's ten-year-old brother, took to Jack instantly and Jack had to admit, it was nice to be looked up to for no other reason than being yourself. He had never had trouble attracting women – at least not since he had started uni – because of his looks, intelligence and learned charm. But Ben was something different, and Jack found that it was no more difficult than breathing to inspire Ben's liking. It was the same thing that he liked about Gabrielle. No doubt it was a family trait. A family of genuine, honest people who cared deeply about one another.

Jack felt a pang of envy to witness it.

So maybe spending Christmas here wasn't the ordeal he had thought it would be. Certainly, it couldn't have been worse than pottering around campus during what could be the loneliest time of the year if you weren't big on family. Jack wasn't the only student who lived on-campus in between semesters, but between Christmas and New Year, it certainly felt like everyone but him had somewhere to go.

Not that he would prefer going back to his dad's house. Not at all. It was just that it could be lonely, and he often regretted not having family to go home to on Christmas. But this – this was everything he had wished for growing up. Well, minus the farm in the middle of nowhere, of course. He smiled at that. He had certainly never pictured himself _here_ when he had aimed high at getting away from his working-class childhood.

"Something amusing you, Jack?" Russel asked. He liked Jack well enough – he was smart, and close to his daughter's age, which,. After Steve Taylor, could only be a good thing – but he wasn't about the cut him any slack.

Jack decided it was best to be honest. "Never saw myself as spending Christmas somewhere like this. I grew up in Sydney."

"So Gabrielle tells me. How are you finding it? The change, I mean?"

"It's different. Quieter. I never imagined myself liking a place where there wasn't loads of people and bussle, but – it's nice. What I needed, I think." Out here without any of the temptations that Sydney and Canberra had to offer, it was easy to look back on the rather hedonistic life he lived when he wasn't studying madly and think that's he'd had it wrong all this time.

Russel nodded. He didn't wholly trust a nineteen-year-old who had quite obviously put a lot of distance between him and his virginity – Jack had a hard look in his eyes that wasn't dissimilar to Steve's, and in a way more frightening, between Jack was nineteen and Steve was twenty-seven – and had no doubt that the only reason he was resisting temptations here was that there wasn't much temptation to be had. But still, there was something sincere about him that Russel liked – and he quite clearly cared about Gabrielle, and was putting in some effort to respect what she wanted. They could be good for one another. Certainly, Russel would rather his seventeen-year-old daughter dating a nineteen-year-old than a twenty-seven-year-old. "You should stay a little longer," Russel suggested. "Uni doesn't start again until, what, March?"

"Something like that," Jack said. "But I said I would host New Year's this year." He had hosted last year to a great measure of success; having a six-bedroom accommodation to himself over most of the Christmas break where most people he knew still lived with their parents or in shared accommodation made it an obvious choice, although it was very much against the rules – but what authority was around that time of the year? Jack remembered last year's New Year's party fondly. He had been eighteen, and while he hadn't exactly been a stranger to sex and alcohol, it was the first time he had been able to do it perfectly legally.

Jack realised his mistake too late. "There'll be drinking at this party?" Russel asked.

No point in trying to pretend he'd be hosting a children's party. "Um... yeah," he admitted. "But if you're worried about Gabrielle, I'll take care of her. I have a morals clause in my scholarship. They could throw me out for having a minor drinking under my watch."

Russel looked a little impressed with the tight leash that AUMEL had Jack on, not realising that that only applied to his behaviour on campus, and Jack had long ago learnt how to circumvent that. "You're kidding me."

"Fraid not. I get a full scholarship, stipend, accommodation, book subsidy and meal plan and in return I'm their golden posterboy who gets High Distinctions and doesn't get into any trouble."

"It must be stifling," Russel commented. An extremely good-looking young man, living away from home and being told by the university to behave?

"Not too bad. I wanted to go to AUMEL and I my dad wasn't going to support me. I couldn't have supported myself, not without working ridiculous hours, so it's a fair trade. But anyway – my point was that I won't do the wrong thing by Gabrielle, and if you don't want to trust my integrity, then you can trust the fact that I don't want to lose my scholarship."

Russel looked thoughtfully at Jack. It was a good point to bring up; the boy was far more likely to care about his scholarship than he was Gabrielle, and if the welfare of both coincided, all the better. Besides, he had to care about Gabrielle at little at least – city boys didn't spend Christmas on farms for just anyone.

* * *

"What's this?" Gabrielle asked on a busy New Year's Eve. Canberra had a population of three and a half hundred thousand, and it seemed like a fair chunk of them were here – at least the ones aged between eighteen and thirty. She had never been to a party like this. They had parties in Widgee, of course, but there simply weren't enough people in the entire town to make up numbers like this. She was starting to feel a little claustrophobic, surrounded by all these people. The student house that Jack lived in had seemed so big when he'd had it to himself, but now that it seemed to be hosting every person in Canberra between eighteen and thirty, it seemed tiny. She much preferred being alone with him, cooking dinner with him, watching videos with him.

He'd even set up one of the unused bedrooms for her, although she knew once the new university year started, someone else would be using it. But still, it was thoughtful of him. He never pressured her to have sex with him, and she was rarely reminded of the fact that before he had started dating her, he had been sexually active – very much so. It only made her want to sleep with him even more, but every time he moved his hands to the waistband on her pants or skirt, she felt that familiar panic. He always pulled away at that point.

She wished she was with _that_ Jack right now. She didn't much like this Jack – highly sociable, flitting from person to person, several beers in his system already and it wasn't even nine o'clock – and felt like she didn't belong. All the women here were so smart and beautiful – she looked over at Jane Grey and Bianca Miller, Jane's blond prettiness a foil for Bianca's striking Eurasian features, and felt insanely insecure. She could never be that at ease as they were, and she was meant to be Jack's girlfriend.

She wasn't feeling like his girlfriend much right now. She was feeling like a tagalong kid sister that everyone ignored.

"It's vodka and lemonade," Jack said.

"Jack! You told me dad you'd watch out for me! You said you could lose your scholarship!"

"Which is true. But who's going to rat me out? And I _am_ looking after you. You think I'm going to let anything happen to my girl?" He gave her a tender look that immediately transported her to their times alone together. She was _his girl_. "You'll feel good, I promise. And no-one's going to take advantage of you, I promise. That's _my_ job." So Gabrielle took the drink and found she quite enjoyed it. It helped her relax and made her feel more sociable – not quite that she belonged here, but a lot less like she _didn't_.

"Look at her," Bianca said scornfully from across the room. "She looks like that's the first drink she's ever had. And what _is_ it she's wearing? I guess you don't have much choice at Target Country."

"Or a decent hairdresser," Jane added to be in sync with Bianca, although privately she thought Bianca was being too harsh on Gabrielle. What did it matter if Jack was finally dating someone and it wasn't her? They were young, brilliant and beautiful – it wasn't like there were no other eligible bachelors in the world, or even in Canberra. "I think if I had curls like that, I'd hang myself with them." Jane ran her fingers through her own dead-straight locks as if to reassure herself that she didn't have the misfortune of curly hair.

Jane started talking about something else, and Bianca pretended to be paying attention so she didn't look _too_ interested in Jack and Gabrielle. But it infuriated her deeply. She was used to getting any man that she wanted, but Jack had remained stubbornly disinterested in her – he even struggled to get her name right. She had been determined to make him notice her, but so far, all he had done was notice some Plain Jane from the country who, from the looks of her, didn't drink, didn't have sex, didn't do _anything_ that was worth doing.

So what the hell did he see in her?

* * *

"Enjoying yourself?" Jack asked when he manoeuvred Gabrielle into his bedroom just after eleven. He was drunk and horny.

"Yeah," she said. She had to admit, she was enjoying herself more then she had expected she would. But enough vodka and she stopped caring what people thought of her. It was only Jack's opinion that counted, and Jack was crazy about her. He wouldn't spend Christmas with her family and patiently abstain from sex if he wasn't crazy about her.

"Good," Jack said. He backed Gabrielle against the wall and started kissing her earnestly, his tongue trashing aggressively in her mouth, his hands wandering her body freely. "You're so sexy," he said. She could taste the scotch on his breath.

"How much have you had to drink?" she asked. She wasn't exactly sober herself, but she had witnessed Jack drink a _lot_ tonight, and that was only what she had seen.

"Doesn't matter, it's New Years and I don't have to drive anytime soon," he said, kissing her even more insistently. "So sexy," he repeated. He pushed himself against her so his erection was against her thigh, leaving no doubt in her mind what he wanted from her.

"Jack, stop," Gabrielle protested.

"What? Doesn't it feel good?" Jack asked. Gabrielle couldn't help kissing him back; it _did_ feel good. She loved the way he touched her. She loved the feel of his hands on her bare skin, the way his mouth felt on her skin. It was _hard_ to stop him when he put his hands under her shirt because she didn't entirely _want_ him to stop, and he only stopped because he understood her body language. But now his hands were all over her and his desire was obvious and she wasn't sure she felt strongly enough about _not_ being ready to tell him no.

"It does, it's just – Jack – I don't feel ready yet."

"You're seventeen. I've known girls who were thirteen."

Gabrielle hated when Jack said something like that. She knew that he personally had never been with a thirteen-year-old, but still, it sounded like so sleazy. She gasped as Jack undid the buttons of her shirt and trailed kisses down her chest, running his lips over the swell of her breasts within the confines of her bra. "Jack, please," she begged. "Not like this." _Not when you're drunk with half of Canberra on the other side of the door_.

She suddenly became very aware of just how strong Jack was and just how little leeway she when she was wedged between the wall and his body. "Relax," he whispered into his ear, and it sounded like a hissed command than as boyfriend's direction. "You'll enjoy it."

His hands were unbuttoning her pants now and he was rubbing up against her thigh. "I've never wanted someone as much as you," he grunted. "Or waited as long."

It was meant to be a compliment but it made her feel cheap, like the six weeks they'd been together had been nothing but an extended foreplay for him. She tried to push him off her, but he was stronger than her and carried away in his lust. So she bit down hard on his lip.

Jack pulled away from her with a howl, bringing his hand up to his bleeding lip. "What the _fuck_ was that for, for prick-tease?" he asked.

"I told you I wasn't ready – and even if I was, it wouldn't be like this," she said. "I don't know how _you_ lost your virginity, Jack, but I have higher standards than a crowded party with my drunk boyfriend who reeks of scotch."

"Yeah? Well you weren't interested in anything else I've tried so forgive me for thinking alcohol might loosen you up," Jack replied.

Gabrielle's eyes glittered. "You gave me alcohol to _sleep_ with me?" she asked incredulously. She had thought Jack was different than that. Suddenly, she couldn't stand to be in this house anymore – she wanted to be home with her aunt and uncle – she would rather be home at the farm, but that wasn't an option right now – and she would deal with the consequences if they smelled the vodka on her breath.

"Of course I didn't," Jack defended himself. "I just thought you might be a bit more relaxed."

"Well, I'm not. You want to get laid? Bianca Miller's been giving me evil looks all night. I'm sure you'll find her plenty accommodating." And with that, Gabrielle headed for the door.

"Babe, don't," Jack said, lunging after her. Gabrielle slapped him hard and left before he could react further. Fuming, and in no mood to celebrate New Years anymore, he crashed on his bed. He had a small fridge that he kept next to his bed for alcohol from which he poured himself a straight scotch. He was drunk and horny and furious that Gabrielle had misunderstood him. Over six weeks they'd been dating; was she that naive that she didn't think he had urges like every other male over thirteen? Six weeks of cold showers and jerking off when he was used to having anyone he wanted and didn't go a week without getting laid – and that was when he wasn't having an off-week. Six weeks, and she thought he was happy with holding hands and kissing at the door?

"Prick tease," he said to the empty room.

"Hope you're not talking about me," came the chirpy voice of Bianca Miller. She had watched Gabrielle leave ten minutes before – and Jack not come out of his room. So they had had a fight, she surmised. Probably because Little Miss Priss didn't want to have sex and was dumb enough to think that just because _she_ didn't want to, _Jack_ wouldn't want to, either.

Jack noted her disinterestedly. She was attractive enough, but had never been his type. Far too aggressive. "No," he said. "Had a fight with my girlfriend."

"I thought so. I saw her storm out about ten minutes ago. What happened?"

"Doesn't matter," Jack said, which only confirmed that the fight had been over sex.

Bianca sat herself down on the bed. "You shouldn't be so unhappy," she said. "It's New Years Eve. Out with the old, in with the new, time for change and all that. You'll find someone new. Do you know how many women there are out there who are interested in brilliant, good-looking young doctors?" she asked, reaching for his free hand – the one that wasn't holding the drink – and stroking the back of it in such a way that left no doubt in Jack's mind, drunk as he was, that she included herself among those women.

He knew he should pull his hand away, but he was too drunk and too horny to care right now. "You want a drink?" he asked.

"What are you drinking?"

"Scotch and Coke," he said, and handed the glass to her. She downed it in one gulp and he poured another one. Half an hour passed of mindless drinking, and Jack wasn't sure how Bianca had come to be in his room, on his bed, in his arms, but she felt nice, almost as nice as Gabrielle, and the signals she was sending him was obvious, and it was nice to know that _someone_ wanted to sleep with him.

The countdown started, and Bianca jumped up and grabbed Jack's hand. "C'mon, you have to ring in the new year," she said.

Jack yanked on her hand so she fell back against him. _To hell with Gabrielle_, he thought as he kissed Bianca hard. Bianca didn't need any encouragement, and she kissed Jack back, straddling him within a second and welcoming his searching tongue. He had a strength that his slim figure belied, and he held her tightly. He tore his mouth away from hers and kissed her face and neck, making her groan the way a woman was supposed to when he started sucking on her neck. His erection flared up again.

Bianca, sensing this, reached down and placed her hand on his crotch. "Do you want me?" she asked.

"Yes," he groaned. "I want to fuck you so badly it hurts."

Please with his response, Bianca unzipped his pants and pulled them down his legs, along with his boxers, freeing his erection. She whistled appreciatively when she saw it. "I'm a lucky girl," she said.

Jack flipped them so he was on top of her. It didn't take long before they were both naked, and, pausing briefly to retrieve a condom, soon he was pumping her furiously, grabbing and biting with abandon, using Bianca's willing body to slake two months worth of lust. He climaxed quickly and rolled off her, feeling disgusting with himself as soon as it was over. Hell, he had felt disgusted with himself while he was doing it, just too drunk and horny to care. But now that it was over, guilt flooded him. He was crazy about Gabrielle, and when you were crazy about someone, you didn't go and screw someone else after a fight. Not unless you were someone like your dad.

Bianca tried to cuddle up to him. Jack pushed her away. "I should get back to the party," he said. He leapt out of bed and dressed quickly.

Bianca tried not to put out. "Would you like me to stay?" she asked.

"No."

Bianca's eyes narrowed. She knew a dismissal when she heard it. "So that's it, huh?" she asked. "Humped and dumped?"

"Something like that." And he pushed past her to get back to the party, although partying was the last thing he felt like doing.

* * *

"Babe, I'm so sorry for what happened," Jack said on the second of January with flowers in hand and tears threatening to start again. He couldn't believe how horrible he was feeling over Bianca. Gabrielle could never find out about that. She was so sweet and innocent and she would never understand what he had done. She would never look at him the same way.

Gabrielle went to shut the door in his face. Jack wedged his foot in just in time and gritted his teeth when she thought nothing of slamming the door on his foot; at least she hadn't shut him out. "Please," he said. "I don't know what came over me."

"Yeah, you do," she retorted coldly. "You were thinking with your dick and too much alcohol."

"OK, yeah," he admitted shame-facedly. "It's hard for me sometimes. I'm – _not used_ – to abstinence."

"Oh, poor you." She started to walk away.

He followed her into the house. "Hey, will you listen to me. I'm trying to explain. I'm sorry. It was lousy and I feel like shit for it. I was drunk and horny and got carried away. You've got to forgive me. You're the best thing that happened to me."

He hadn't meant to be so melodramatic, but it had come out that way and it seemed to have an effect on her. "You made me feel like all I meant to you was someone to have sex with," she said in a small voice.

"Sweetheart, that's not all you are to me. I wouldn't be waiting for you if you were. I've never cared about someone enough to date them for this long. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never meant to make you feel anything but special and loved." He could see that his words were softening her, and he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I've done a pretty good job of that so far, haven't I?" he asked.

Gabrielle nodded. She couldn't deny it; Jack had so far been incredible attention to what she wanted, and respectful about the fact she _didn't_ want to sleep with him. Before last night, things had been wonderful between them. "Can't we just forget about it?" he pleaded.

"You promise you won't get drunk around me again?" she asked; she was realistic enough to know that asking a nineteen-year-old university student never to get drunk again was asking too much, but so long as she wasn't around, she could deal with it. Jack nodded eagerly. "And you won't pressure me into having sex with you again?" Jack nodded again. He was feeling so guilty about trying to force her, not to mention having sex with another woman, that he would have agreed to _anything_. "Then... I guess so," she said, hoping she wasn't making a mistake.

Jack swooped her into a tight bear hug. "Thankyou," he whispered into her ear. She could feel him trembling; did she really mean that much to him that he had been so scared of losing her? She wrapped her arms around his back to return the hug, then brought her arms down to hug him under his shirt the way he liked. He tensed up slightly. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just not in the mood to get... carried away." If Gabrielle saw – or felt – how scratched up he was from Bianca's acrylic nails... or the massive hickey on his neck that only his collared shirts covered... he shuddered at the thought, and hoped Gabrielle took his shudder to be one of terror at the thought of losing her.

Thankfully, Gabrielle took him at his word. He stayed for a few hours – long enough to have lunch with her and watch a movie – before leaving, thanking God that she had accepted his apology and taken him back.

* * *

"I heard you got back with that frigid schoolgirl," Bianca all but snarled at him a few days later.

"None of your business," was Jack's reply. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The scratches she had inflicted on him felt like they were burning sometimes, and he wondered if God was punishing him. Not that he believed in God. Maybe it was the chemicals in her fake nails.

"She know about us?" Bianca challenged.

Jack's eyes flashed dangerously, and Bianca suddenly remembered how strong he was and how easily he had flipped her onto her back. "No, and I don't intend of having her find out," he said.

"What, you think you can hide the fact you slept with another woman?" she sneered.

"Yeah, I do, given we do most of our socialising on campus or in pubs and she's not going to be there," Jack said. He had given it some thought already. Gabrielle didn't feel comfortable around his uni friends, so for the most part, they kept to themselves, and anyway, she wasn't allowed in pubs. It was unlikely already that she would socialise with his friends, and now that he was _trying_ to keep them separate, he figured that a zero likelihood could be easily achieved.

Bianca's eyes narrowed. So he had given this some thought. "So that's it, huh? You screw someone else when your girlfriend pisses you off and you get away with it? Never think about it again?"

"Of course I've thought about it. I feel awful." There Gabrielle was, torn between wanting to sleep with him and not being ready, and there _he_ was, going and having sex with someone else when she wouldn't put out. His back started burning again. "But telling her isn't going to achieve anything but make her hate me." He had thought about that scenarios several times; the reality couldn't be much worse than the images he kept torturing himself with.

Bianca's eyes narrowed even more. "You bastard," she hissed. "You think you can just sleep with me and your girlfriend won't and you can walk away and everything's hunky-dory? You think I'm someone who'll just let you treat me like that?"

_I think you're someone who's dumb enough to think a drunk encounter on New Year's Eve means anything_, Jack thought, but was smart enough not to say that. "Brigit, I have stuff to do, so if you don't mind –" he said pointedly. OK, so while he was on holidays, he only had _Wuthering Heights_ to get through, but he would take that over some twit silly enough to think a New Year's liaison meant anything.

Bianca glared at him. He couldn't even get her name right. "Fine," she said, and flounced off. Thinking nothing more of it, Jack went back to his book.

* * *

"Jack! Glad I caught up with you. You're a hard man to catch up with."

Jack smiled warily at Pamela Hastings. He rarely saw the scholarship co-ordinator, and figured that since she didn't talk to him when he was getting excellent marks and staying out of trouble (at least trouble that she and the Canberra Police Department knew about), she could only be seeking him out because something was up. "I've been seeing a lot of my girlfriend," he said. "She's only seventeen so that excludes a lot of things."

"Ah, yes. See, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Jack lost the smile and looked even more warily at her. "Have I done something wrong?" he asked pointedly.

"Well, not exactly – " Pamela started.

"You have a problem with the fact my girlfriend's under eighteen," Jack finished. Pamela looked guilty – or was that just sorry that her subtlety hadn't worked. "Last I checked, _Pam_, seventeen was perfectly legal... plus a year. Hell, she's closer to my age than most of the people in my year."

"See, Jack, that's exactly it. You're going into your fifth year when most nineteen-year-olds are in first or second year," Pamela said. "You can't forget that you're being held to the standards of a twenty-two or –three-year-old, not a nineteen-year-old. Is this girl really someone you could take to fifth-year functions? Hell, she can't legally be _admitted_ to most of the functions," Pamela pointed out.

"No," Jack admitted. "But I don't see how that matters. She's over sixteen, I'm not committing any crime."

"What about this party I hear you had?" Pamela asked. It didn't particular bother the university if Jack wanted to use his empty house for parties during semester breaks, especially around Christmas, because there was no-one who could be bothered policing the university's no-party rule and Jack was actually pretty good about cleaning up and fixing any damage caused. But the rumours he had permitted his seventeen-year-old girlfriend to drink were something else entirely. At least to an indignant Bianca Miller.

"Fine, take away my scholarship then," Jack said irritably. He knew he was in the wrong for having the party, but he also knew that admin wouldn't do anything about it. Pamela was trying to squeeze him over his relationship with Gabrielle, and there was nothing she could squeeze him _over_, other than the fact admin didn't like it, and admin couldn't do a damn thing so long as he was more careful about letting Gabrielle drink on campus.

Pamela eyed Jack critically. Up until now, he had been a dream to work with – unlike many of the deeply entitled kids from Sydney's western suburbs that found their way to AUMEL. He was grateful to be here, and considered his goldenboy-posterboy act to be a fair exchange for what he was getting. But this seventeen-year-old girlfriend who, by all accounts, lacked the certain sophisticated image that AUMEL tried to project, was _not_ something that was good for the university. Not _bad_ exactly, but given the amount of beautiful, intelligent women available, why did he have to choose a dumpy country girl?

She knew better than to push the issue; besides, neither she nor the university could do much about it. Hopefully, when the high schools went back in early February, Jack would realise the reality of dating someone so young. Or better yet, this girl would go back to whatever country town she had come from and Jack would start dating someone more appropriate.

* * *

Jack made a face when he saw Jane Grey waitressing at what up until then had been a favourite cafe of his. Or, rather, finishing off a shift and heading out – and he was in between the staff door and the front door. He didn't manage to pack his stuff up before she got to him. "You look like you're running away," she said. "Not because of me, I hope. D'you mind if I sit?" Jack didn't see what he could do without being rude – after all, it was Bianca he had a problem with, not Jane – so he stayed where he was, having every intention of leaving if Jane wanted to probe. "How are you?" she asked.

"My relationship with Gabrielle is fine, thankyouverymuch, and you can tell Brigit that," Jack said.

"Bianca." Jane wondered if Jack really couldn't remember her name of pretended he did to piss her off. Either way, Bianca couldn't have made a good impression on him.

"Whatever."

"For what it's worth, I thought it was a stupid thing for her to do. I don't know why she's so interested in you. You're too young, too smart, and too rich."

Jack spluttered out his coffee at that, staining a perfectly good book. "Rich, me? Where the hell did she get an idea like that from?"

"Well, you don't work."

"That's 'cos I get a stipend and my accommodation free and Centerlink. And I do work – I tutor during the year. It frees up my holidays, and I like it that way. I'm a working class boy from Sydney."

"If you're from Sydney, then how come you don't go home for Christmas?" Jane asked.

"I don't get on with my dad and I get on even less with my step-mother," Jack said abruptly. Then, because Jane actually seemed interested and not just operating as Bianca's doppelganger, he asked, "You?"

"This is hospitality. If I take time off over Christmas, I get fired, and it's too much hassle to find another job. I got Christmas and Boxing Day off, that was enough. Besides, I get plenty of shifts over Christmas. Some of us have to rely on more than our brilliant IQ's to get by," she teased.

They ended up talking for a while – Jack found her a lot more pleasant than he had first thought. "You really don't like your dad, do you?" Jane asked.

"He's a borderline alcoholic and a compulsive womaniser."

"He and your mum were never married?" Jane asked.

"He was," Jack said shortly.

"Oh." Jane thought about that for a few seconds. "You know," she said. "You're more like Bianca than I thought."

Jack made a face. "Please don't tell me that."

"Her dad left her mum when she was young – got bored with being in a multiethnic relationship, I guess, 'cos his second wife is purely white bread and she's got all these half-siblings that Hitler would drool over. He was cheating on her long before he left the relationship. She's still quite bitter about it and sees sex as a power thing."

"Then she should know better than anyone that cheating sucks," Jack said darkly. The only similarity he saw was that he and Bianca both had jerks for fathers; but he wanted to be nothing like his, and Bianca seemed to see it as a matter of entitlement that she did the same things as hers.

Jane cocked her head at that. "You really feel bad about that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do. I don't get why that's so hard to understand."

"Jack, AUMEL is city central for entitled Sydney boys. So yeah, that kinda makes your attitude in the minority. But it's a good attitude to have," she added, thinking that maybe Jack was one of the good guys, and that Bianca should give up on this obsession she had with ousting Gabrielle from her position as Jack's girlfriend.

* * *

"What's this?" Jack asked, inspecting what looked suspiciously like a private school uniform.

"The St. Mary's uniform," Gabrielle said.

"OK... what are you doing with it?" Jack asked, although he knew the answer to that.

"Dad wants me to do year twelve here, says I'll get a better education to do my HSC." Gabrielle saw the expression on Jack's face, and didn't like it. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

Jack remembered what Pamela had said about how bad his relationship looked, and he had to concede that she was right on some things. He was nineteen, but he was studying with twenty-two-year-olds, and none of _them_ had seventeen-year-old girlfriends (or at least, none that they were admitting to). He had already known that Gabrielle hadn't finished high school, but it was one thing to know in the abstract of summer holidays and quite another to see a uniform. "It just looks a little bad, for me to be dating someone in high school," he admitted.

"Plenty of nineteen-year-olds date high schoolers," Gabrielle pointed out.

"Yeah... but not many fifth-year medical students do."

"Oh." Gabrielle understood immediately. Jack was, in some ways, older than nineteen. She herself was, in many ways, older than seventeen, and they meshed well together because of that, but there was no getting around the fact that he was a fifth-year medical student (or would be, once university went back) dating a high-schooler. "Do you – do you want to break up with me?" she asked in a small voice.

"What? No, of course not. I just – wish it was easier," he admitted. He saw the look on Gabrielle's face – he knew she knew how much he had to curtail his social activities because of her age, and knew that she felt guilty for it – and regretted ever saying something. "Come here," he said, pulling Gabrielle into his arms before she could say anything else, and kissing her deeply. "There's no-one I'd rather have," he said huskily between kisses. "I swear," he added, thinking guiltily about Bianca. "I don't care how inconvenient it is, I want you and no-one to going to tell me otherwise."

* * *

Jack watched Gabrielle in amusement. He didn't see why Lake Burley-Griffin was so interesting to her – but then, she had grown up on a land-locked farm. He made a mental note to take her up to Sydney sometime. If she was fascinated by a man-made lake, imagine how fascinated she would be by the Pacific Ocean. But for the meantime, it was enjoyable to watch _her_ enjoying himself. He sat on the shore and watched her on the end of the pier. She looked cute, in her bikini and denim shorts with her hair tied loosely behind her back. She was on her stomach, her upper body over the edge of the pier, reaching down into the water. She looked endearingly like a child and Jack smiled indulgently. If only she would take to boutique shopping as well as she took to great volumes of water – he was crazy about her, but he was still aware that her fashion sense _was_ on the plain, practical side.

He was reading a book, not particularly paying her attention, waiting for her to lose interest in the lake. The sun was setting, and he hoped she lost interest before he lost his reading light. He heard a splash, and knew she had finally fallen in – not exactly surprising, given that she had been draped halfway over the edge of the pier. He flipped a page of his book and waited to hear her cry of indignation when she surfaced. _I warned you_, he thought, and he had, but Gabrielle sometimes seemed to have the cause-and-affect logic of a child. _Gravity doesn't apply to _me_, not when I'm enjoying myself so much_.

It took thirty seconds to register that there was no cry of indignation – which should have come, because the temperature on a typical January day should make the water comparatively freezing. With a sickening thud in his stomach, he realised that he had assumed she could swim, because everyone he knew could swim, because Sydney wasn't a city that you _didn't_ learn to swim in. _Shit_, he thought. If he had known she couldn't swim, he wouldn't have let her so close to the edge of the pier. He wouldn't have let her on the pier in the fist place.

He took a running dive off the pier and located her easily enough. The water wasn't even that deep – about two meters – and if she had even the most rudimentary survival swimming skills, she could have gotten herself back to shore easy enough. _Who the hell doesn't know how to swim?_ Jack wondered, furious that Gabrielle hadn't told him something like that. How the hell did you tell someone about your childhood and forget to mention that said childhood hadn't included a pool, lake or ocean? "It's OK, I've got you," Jack said, trying to calm her. He had ignored the first rule of surf lifesaving, which was not to go in after a conscious person – they could drown you in their frantic attempt to save themselves and end up killing both of you. Quick as a flash, he brought one arm tightly around her upper body, pinning her arms against her. "Stop thrashing," he directed, and the power of his words – not to mention the power of his arms pinning her body to hers – got through to her and she stopped thrashing around.

He got them back to shore, lay her down on the sand, then slapped her with the full force of his strength. "You fucking stupid girl!" he screamed at her. "I promised your dad I'd look after you! Why the fuck didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?" He slapped her again, because he had been sick with worry and it felt good to release those emotions. "You-could-have-killed-yourself-don't-you-know-how-much-you-mean-to-me?" he asked, grabbing her dripping hair in his first and yanking her head violently with each word as if to shake the stupidity of venturing so close to deep water – well, deeper than she was tall, at least – when she couldn't swim.

He stopped when he felt the fear of losing her seep from him and had her far more frightened than she had been when she'd fallen into the water. "Don't you know how much you mean to me?" he asked her again, this time somewhat calmer, before slamming his mouth against hers and kissing her with the same violence he'd slapped her a few seconds ago. She tasted like lake water – and not the cleanest of lakes, either – but he didn't care. All he could think about was kissing her, devouring her, fusing her against him so he never had to let her go again.

She kissed him back with as much violence – a violent, hungry passion that she hadn't thought herself capable of, for all that she was madly attracted to Jack – and deeply in love with him. She kicked her legs out from under him so she could wrap them around his waist. She felt his hands sliding down the side of her body, then up again and underneath to untie her bikini top. It fell away and he was kissing her breasts, sucking, biting, licking. She arched her back in pleasure. It was further than she had ever allowed Jack to go before but she didn't care. No, it wasn't that she didn't care – she _did_ – she wanted it, more than she had wanted him in the past two months, more than she could remember wanting anything in her life.

She wedged her hands between their bodies so she could pull his t-shirt up – thankgod he wasn't wearing a button-up shirt. She could feel his erection against her thigh, like she had on New Years, except this was so much different. She revelled in the physical presence of his desire and thrust her thigh against him, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

She clenched her fisted fingers in his hair and dragged his head up to her mouth so he would kiss her again. She felt like his kisses were as much a life-force as breathing – in fact, breathing seemed less important than kissing – and that if they stopped something would happen. He kissed her hungrily and she kissed him back just as hungrily, their tongues thrashing wildly in each other's mouths. She could feel the pressure of his weight bearing down on her, pushing her into the sand, trying to get closer to her than was humanly possible.

His hands were everywhere, trying to get in every inch of her body, sliding down the front of her body to unbutton and unzipping her shorts, pulling them down her legs so the only thing she was wearing was her bikini bottoms. She pushed herself against him again, her thigh against his erection, telling him in ways words couldn't express what she wanted. He slid his hand under the material of her bikini bottoms, his fingers probing her most sensitive of places until she was writhing uncontrollably against him, her body wet and willing.

He fumbled with his shorts and yanked them down to his thighs along with his y-fronts. Still kissing her, he pulled at the tie of her bikini bottoms so it fell to one side and she was naked underneath him. He positioned himself to penetrate her and held the position for a second before entering her as slowly as he could stand.

He had wanted to take it slowly, but as soon as he felt her wet warmth surrounding him, it was about as effective as telling a dehydrated man to take small sips. He plunged the full length into her and felt her stiffen underneath him. A part of him knew he was hurting her and knew he should be taking it slower but it was overruled by the sheer lust that he felt.

Gabrielle buried her face in Jack's shoulder. She had been told it would hurt, she had just hoped that it would be different with her – that Jack's innate gentleness would somehow translate into a less painful first experience. He was inside her, pumping her, opening her up, hurting her – she remembered the time she had broken her arm and knew that the pain had been much worse, but right now, it didn't feel like that.

His fingers were between her legs, caressing her expertly, and the pain, if not quite dissipating, at least faded to discomfort as the most wonderful sensation started building up inside her and before too long, she was bucking wildly against him and coming to orgasm. "Jack!" she screamed, her cries muffled against his shoulder.

He thrust hard, released a guttural groan and climaxed hard, pouring himself into her before collapsing on top of her. "Jack," she gasped. "Heavy."

"Sorry." He rolled off her and reached for his clothes. Now that it was over, he felt guilty. He hadn't intended it on being like this – not on the shore of Lake Burley-Griffin, not with little thought about what they were doing, not going at it like animals with no more sophistication than to engage in a frenzied coupling. "It's getting cold," he said, and it was, although that wasn't the reason he wanted to leave. "We should get back to my place."

"OK," she said in a small voice, wondering if this was the shortest record in history for a guy to lose interest in a girl after having sex with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Go have a shower," Jack directed Gabrielle in a gruff voice that made her want to cry. Weren't they lovers now? Should he be acting more, well, _loverly_? Should they be having showers together or something? "No. I'll take a shower after you," he said when she asked.

So Gabrielle had a shower, trying to fight the hurt she felt that Jack was acting so distant towards her. She hadn't known what she was expecting, exactly, just not this. Never this.

Jack had a quick shower after her and joined her on his bed – sitting perched on the edge, nothing for sexual in that. She felt nervous – that kind of nervous you get when you've done something wrong and you know you're in trouble and you're waiting for the axe to fall. "Jack, do you want to break up with me?" she blurted out.

Jack looked at her in shock and alarm. "What? No! Of course not!"

"Then why are you acting like this?" she asked, on the verge of tears.

He was horrified to see her start to cry. First he'd hurt her, then he'd made her cry. "Because I'm angry," he said, and Gabrielle tensed up. She didn't know what she'd done to make him angry at her – had it not been an enjoyable experience for him? Had he wanted someone more experienced then she was? Had the reality of being with a virgin not matched up to his fantasy? "I knew how you felt and I knew what you wanted and I just... couldn't help myself. You scared the crap out of me and I wanted – I wanted to be inside you and I didn't stop to care what you wanted."

She was stunned. "You're angry at _yourself_?" she asked.

"Of course. What did you think?"

"That you were angry at _me_."

Jack looked at her, baffled. "Why would I be angry at _you_?" he asked.

"Because I'm not exactly what you're used to," she said. "I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing. How can that be a turn-on?" she asked in a small voice.

"Turn-on's the wrong word," Jack said. "You don't know as much as me, either, but that's not a turn-off 'cos it doesn't stem from wilful ignorance. You _want_ to learn. That's a massive turn-on of its own accord. Once the desire to learn is there, almost anything can be achieved."

"Really?" Gabrielle asked, half-dubious, half-hopeful.

He took her hand. Momentarily – and with a massive flash of guilt – he thought of Bianca Miller, who, despite her phenomenal intelligence, was determined to cling to her biases and bigotries. She was highly knowledgeable without being particularly wise or insightful, and until Jack had met Gabrielle, he hadn't really understood the difference. "Really," he said. "I don't know anyone who wants to learn the way you do... and I go to what's supposed to be the best university in the country," he added ruefully. "Knowledge isn't the same as wisdom or insight or compassion." He wished he had known that himself before now – which just went to show how much _he_ was learning from _her_.

"So you're not mad at me?"

"I promise, sweetheart, I'm not mad at you."

She sighed with relief. "Then... could we try again?" she asked.

"What, now?" he asked.

She nodded. "Unless, um..." she said, trying to broach the sensitive subject of his stamina. She had heard that it took twenty-four-hours for a guy to recover; longer, if he wasn't in very good shape or had never had much stamina to begin with. Which she doubted with Jack, but maybe she shouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

Jack laughed at that. He had plenty of stamina, thankyouverymuch, thanks to his peak fitness, a burning desire to prove himself sexually, and maybe even genetics – his dad certainly hadn't been a slacker when it came to the fairer sex. "I can go again," he said. "If you're up to it."

She found herself eying hungrily the skin where he hadn't buttoned his shirt all the way up. She had seen and felt him without his shirt on before, of course, but now things were different. Now everything was different. "I'm up for it," she said.

"I don't want to push you," Jack said. "You're going to be sore and achy for a while. I don't want you to feel like you have to do something to please me."

She reached out and stroked his cheek. He pushed his face gently against her hand, enjoying the feel of her touch. "I want to," she said. "You've never made me feel like I _had_ to." Well, apart from the New Year's party, but since then, he had been the epitome of gentlemanly.

Appeased, Jack leaned in to kiss her, as gentle as he had been after their first date, the complete opposite of the animal lust he'd felt barely an hour ago on the shore. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back eagerly. "Jack," she whispered as he began kissing her face and neck.

He liked the way her name sounded on her lips. He liked the way she was in love with him for himself... although he supposed you couldn't be in love with a perfect for anyone _but_ yourself... it was that he'd never had anyone be in love with him before, and the feeling was exhilarating. He pushed her down onto his bed and began undoing her shirt. He had seen her in her bra and bikini before, of course, and even had sex with her – but this was different. This was more like how he had wanted it to be for them... New Years notwithstanding.

They undressed each other and he entered her with as much restraint as he could manage – surprising restraint, given how much he wanted her, you'd think they hadn't already done it. He felt her tense up beneath him and he knew he was hurting her and wished there was a way around it. And yet – the knowledge of being her first was exhilarating.

Afterwards they lay together in companionable silence for several hours, falling asleep together. Jack stirred around nine. "Babe," he said. "I ought to take you home. Your aunt and uncle will be wondering where you are."

"They know I often spend the night here."

"Yeah... in another room," Jack said.

Gabrielle wanted to laugh at Jack's odd logic. Now that they had become lovers, he was all worried about how it would look to her aunt and uncle, who would assume that she had spent the night in another room, like she always did. He wanted to do the right thing, even if it was a somewhat twisted idea of what was right. It was kind of endearing... even though she wanted to spend the night with him. Their first night together. "OK," she agreed reluctantly.

So he dropped her home and walked her to the door. "I'll see you soon," he whispered, holding her tightly against him, not wanting to let her go. He was surprising how strongly he felt about her now. Was this all the stuff they talked about, about sex being healthy and loving and emphasising a healthy, loving relationship?

He watched her go, and felt the urge to call after her that he loved her.

* * *

Jack was entertaining a few friends, including Jane Grey, one afternoon early in February when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," he said. "The door's open."

The smile that had been playing on his lips died instantly when he saw Gabrielle. Normally, he would be pleased to see her, but, Good Lord, what was she _wearing_? Of course, he _knew_ what she was wearing – the St. Mary's school uniform. His girlfriend was dressed as a Catholic schoolgirl, and not in any erotic way. He felt his face burning to know that his friends were also looking at Gabrielle – and grinning. None of _them_ were dating Catholic schoolgirls.

He stood up abruptly, grabbed her by the arm and steered her towards his bedroom. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

She flinched at the tone in his voice. "I came to see you," she said. "Like I said I would."

"You think you could have gotten changed first?" he asked harshly.

She realised too late her mistake. Of _course_ Jack wouldn't want attention drawn to the fact she was still in high school. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"Sorry? You've _embarrassed_ me. Jesus, I know you're still in high school, but would a little intelligence go astray?"

Gabrielle flinched again at the harshness of his words. She had made a mistake – did he have to be so mean about it? "I'm sorry," she said again. "I didn't realise it was that important. You're only two years older than me. Loads of nineteen-year-olds have seventeen-year-old girlfriends."

"Yeah... and they're in first or second year," Jack retorted. "I'm in fifth." Well, he would be, when the university year started, which was close enough. "Goddamnit, I don't need crap like this. I've already had Pamela Hastings on my case and you're not exactly doing me any favours, showing up looking like some porn star perversion." _Perversion_, because despite the common schoolgirl fantasy, there was nothing overtly sexual about her.

Gabrielle had no idea who Pamela Hastings was, because Jack didn't talk to her about university stuff. All she knew was that she had come over, like she had said, like he had asked – and he was biting her head off because she had come straight from school without changing out of her uniform. Poor foresight, for sure, but nothing to be so mean about it. She felt tears spring to her eyes. He had never spoken to her like that – unless you counted New Years, and he had been drunk then. Now he was perfectly sober. "Fine," she said, trying to keep her voice from quavering. "I'll go then."

"Gabrielle, wait," Jack said, trying to stop her from going, but she slipped out of his grasp too quickly and was out the door before he could do anything about it. He couldn't go after her because he couldn't just leave his friends, and anyway, he was still pissed off at her. _She_ had come over even though common sense should have told her that it was a bad idea for her to be prancing around a university campus in a high school uniform, and now she was acting like _he_ was the bad guy?

He shut the door after her and turned back to his friends. He would deal with Gabrielle later.

Of course, it didn't take long for the word to get out – thanks largely to Jane Grey. She liked Jack, and the more time they spent together, the more she came to respect him, but she was still Bianca's friend more than she was Jack's, and knew she would want information like this. "He looked ready to hit her," Jane told Bianca in exaggeration.

Bianca's eyes glittered pleasurably. Sometimes she looked quite evil, Jane thought. She knew Bianca had had a hard life, but really, did that give her the right to take so much pleasure out of the rough patches in Jack and Gabrielle's relationship? "It can't be much fun, dating someone who can't actually _do_ anything," Bianca said snidely. "His birthday's coming up. What's he going to do, hire out the bowling alley and serve fairy bread?"

Jane looked at Bianca sharply. "How do you know when his birthday is?" she asked.

"Student records. Duh."

"I thought they were private."

Bianca looked witheringly at Jane. "Nothing's private, if you put in enough effort," she said haughtily. It struck Jane that if you substituted _private_ for _sacred_ and you had Bianca's attitude towards Jack and Gabrielle's relationship.

"I think she's good for him," Jane offered tentatively.

Bianca focused those glittering eyes on Jane. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"I think Gabrielle's good for Jack. You know Jack's only nineteen. He's closer to her age then he is yours."

"Your point being?" Bianca asked coolly.

"My point is that maybe having a girlfriend close to his age is good for him, given how much time he spends with people older than he is. I don't think it's good for him, not being around people his own age."

"What, you're saying we're not good enough for him?" Bianca asked haughtily. Which meant, Jane knew, that _she_ wasn't good enough for him. Jane didn't.

"No... if he were single. Which he's not. I just don't see the point in taking so much pleasure out of their relationship being rocky. He's happy."

"He's a man, how happy can he be?" Bianca asked, completely indifferent to any pain she might be bringing onto Jack and Gabrielle by setting her sights on him.

* * *

Jack cringed when he saw Pamela Hastings. He had known she would confront him, of course, but he had been hoping to delay that confrontation by a few more days at least. "Pamela," he said. "I was just on my way out."

"No you weren't." She swanned into the house before Jack could stop her. He glowered. Only Pamela could get away with it. OK, so the Dean probably could too, but he didn't have to deal with the Dean like he had to deal with Pamela. "What's this I hear about that schoolgirl of yours traipsing around campus in her uniform?" she asked, straight to the point.

He attempted to laugh, and it didn't come across well. "You make it sound like a porn," he said. "Which, I might add, isn't illegal here. Nor is seeing someone over sixteen." Inwardly, he was fuming. He couldn't believe Gabrielle could be so completely without foresight. He had spoken to her about it, made her understand how important it was for him to be taken seriously when he was studying with people several years older then him, but he was still angry over it. She was an intelligent girl; how could it not have occurred to her that traipsing around campus in a high school uniform was a bad idea? _He_ would have thought of it when he was seventeen. Which only reminded him that he hadn't exactly had a happy set of teenage years – he'd be happy to leave them behind when he turned twenty.

"It looks bad, Jack," Pamela said. "You know – "

"Morals clause, I know," Jack said. _Fucking unbelievable_. There was a small underground drug trade going on illegal stimulants and Pamela was having a go at _him_ because his perfectly legal girlfriend was still in high school? After all he'd been through, you'd think the world would cut him some slack. "Look, I've already spoken to her. She won't do it again."

"The university would appreciate it if she didn't make an appearance on campus again," Pamela said stiffly.

"Yeah? What if she wants to come here as a student?" Jack challenged.

"Unlikely. Her family has a history of sending its girls to teaching and nursing school."

Jack stared at Pamela. "You _checked up_ on her?" he asked incredulously. "How did you even find out her name? You guys are unfuckingbelieveable."

"Watch your language."

"Fuck you."

Pamela wondered what had happened to the sixteen-year-old who had been so grateful to get out of the working-class nowhere that he had come from. Some scholarship kids could get really full of themselves very quickly. "Why don't you think about dating someone your own age?" Pamela suggested.

"I _am_ dating someone my own age," Jack said resentfully. "If I was back home, no-one would be questioning it."

"If you were back home, you'd be changing oil all day for people like the ones who come here," Pamela pointed out. It was on the tip of Jack's tongue to give a smart-alec remark about the people here being in Canberra and him being in Sydney, but held his tongue. But he couldn't help but think that it would make things a whole lot easier – and maybe he'd be happier for it.

* * *

Jack lay on his back, trying to get into the blow-job Gabrielle was giving him, but the reality was that she wasn't very good at it. He knew that was because of her inexperience, and he tried to focus on the fact that he _liked_ that about her – but he couldn't help think about all the women he had been with, _all_ of whom had been able to give a decent blow-job. Hell, he bet even Bianca Miller could do it.

With a grunt, he grabbed the back of her head. She wasn't taking it far enough down her throat, and he thrust hard into her mouth. He felt her tense up and hoped she wouldn't bite – or worse, pull away. "Relax," he grunted, and started thrusting to a rhythm that he liked. She wasn't helping much and he didn't feel particularly satisfied when he climaxed. He turned away from her when she went to cuddle up to him. "Sorry," he said. "Can't stand the taste. Or smell. There's Listerine in the bathroom."

Gabrielle obediently went to the bathroom and returned, quiet and withdrawn. "Anything wrong?" Jack asked.

"I hated it."

"You don't mind when I do it to you," Jack pointed out, irritated at her hypocrisy, the fact it hadn't been the most satisfactory of experiences for him – and because he knew how crap you could feel after giving a blow job you didn't want to.

"That's different. You don't have something shoved down your throat."

Which just made Jack more irritable, because he knew exactly what she was talking about. "Fine," he snapped. "You don't have to do it again." He got out of bed and started prowling around.

"Is something wrong?" Gabrielle asked in a small voice. Ever since he had had a go at her over showing up in her school uniform, he had been restless, even edgy. She understood now how thoughtless it had been, but she hadn't known at the time, he couldn't continue to hold that against her.

"Nope."

"Jack..." she said.

"It's nothing you can fix."

"I'm your _girlfriend_, Jack," she reminded him.

He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "I got a visit from Pamela Hastings," he admitted. Gabrielle looked blank; it was just another name he had thrown at her. The only one she remembered was Jane Grey, because they seemed to be getting pretty pally. Gabrielle tried not to think about that; the idea of Jack being friendly with a gorgeous, brilliant young woman like Jane made her feel very insecure. "She's the scholarship liaison. She's the one who harasses me when my grades slip or I'm not meeting my morals clause. Basically, I would be quite happy to _never_ see her."

"And it was about me?"

"Yup."

"But – she can't do anything – I'm seventeen – you're only two years older than me."

"Going into fifth year with people who are three years older," Jack pointed out. "None of _them_ have girlfriends in high school."

"You can't be blamed for that."

"Jesus, Gabrielle, do you think I didn't _tell_ her that?" Jack asked testily. "I'm not a regular fifth-year. I'm supposed to be their boy fucking wonder and dating a schoolgirl doesn't help me much." He saw how much that distressed Gabrielle and his expression softened immediately. "I'm sorry, babe," he apologised sincerely. "I'm just a bit stressed."

"It's fine," she said, and she allowed him to cuddle up to her. She liked the way his body fit so well around hers, and tried not to think about the fact that Jack was stressed and irritable, and uni hadn't even gone back yet.

* * *

"You know what's funny? I grew up in Bondi. I wouldn't have looked twice at someone like you. And here I am, serving you coffee."

"Yeah, I can tell you weren't much of a waitress," Jack said dryly. Jane had so far managed to stop and talk to him every single time he had come in. Jack had never worked in hospitality so he didn't know exactly how it worked, but he was pretty sure you weren't supposed to be spending time on the clock talking to your friends.

Jane poked her tongue out at him. For all that Jack seemed to have taken up a career in making fun of her privileged upbringing, she knew he liked her. "I'd have thought you wouldn't have looked twice at you 'cos I'm three years younger than you," Jack said.

"That, too. It's funny how things work out."

Jack didn't disagree with that. In fact, he even waited for Jane to finish her shift. It _was_ funny how things worked out. Growing up in the working class suburbs, he'd never have thought someone like Jane – gorgeous, wealthy, _older_ – would look at him twice, much less become friends with him. But then, he never would have thought someone like Jane would end up as a waitress. Studying medicine, to be sure, but not waitressing to augment her youth allowance. "My folks aren't big on the whole 'I don't want my baby to get her hands dirty' deal," she said. "They rightfully pointed out that I'd be working, like, ninety hours a week as a doctor, I could get the practice in early."

Jack laughed at that. "Sounds like something my step-mother would say," he said. Except Stella would have meant it out of a bitter resentment as a cent more than absolutely necessary being spent on Jack, whereas Jane's parents actually sounded like they had wanted to teach her a thing or two about a work ethic. He thought about it for a few seconds. "If you actually grew up rich, how come you're not angry about having to work and Brigit is?"

Jane had come to accept that Jack was never going to remember Bianca's name. She wondered what it was about him that Bianca persisted in making him notice her – you would think losing interest seconds after drunk sex and never getting your name right would be a pretty clear message. But then, maybe it wasn't about Jack, and actually about Bianca. The girl had some pretended demented resentments going on. "She's a little bitter," Jane said, realising as she spoke those words that Bianca was actually a _lot_ bitter. "Actually, did you know she grew up not far from you?" Jack shook his head. "A few suburbs over, I think. You wouldn't have known her, but she said something about it recently and it reminded me of what I said, that you actually have a lot in common."

Jack made a face. "And I believe I said at the time that that was something I didn't want to think about."

"Sorry."

"It's OK." Jack raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm just tired. This isn't as easy as I thought it would be."

Jane thought quickly. It was clear that Jack was frustrated by Gabrielle's sexual inexperience, being in high school and inability to go into a pub... or even have a beer with him at his place. Bianca would _love_ to know that. On the other hand, she felt sympathy for him. It was clear he was being pulled in several directions, and it was easy to forget that he was only nineteen. Nineteen and in love with a seventeen-year-old and trying to act twenty-two. She reached out and placed her hand over his. "I bet you're doing far better than anyone you went to school with," she said encouragingly.

He let Jane hold his hand for a few seconds before jerking it away. He wasn't good at making friends, and something told him he'd already said too much. "Thanks," he said sourly. "But I'm fine."

"He's not fine," Jane told Bianca soon after. "He's stressed. He's coped with starting uni at sixteen and overloading for three years and he's unravelling over _this_." She tried to sound contemptuous when she actually felt strongly sympathetic towards him. For all that Jack had a brilliant mind that shouldn't go to waste, nor should he be having to act like he was twenty-two when he was only nineteen.

But Bianca wasn't interested in hearing that. She was interested in Jack precisely because of the brilliant mind that had seen him finish his fourth year of medicine by nineteen. That he should be dating a high schooler was an insult to all fifth-years, not an assessment of his age. Her eyes glittered at the thought of Jack being stressed out by the situation. She was on good terms with Pamela Hastings, and had whispered a few things in her ear about the embarrassment of Jack's relationship with Gabrielle – whispers that Pamela took very seriously indeed, taking it as a general opinion of the fifth-year student body. It seemed to be working; seemed to be grinding Jack down.

"And he hasn't changed his mind about his birthday?" she asked. The local pub was popular with AUMEL students, and celebration after celebration was held there. They were pretty strict about ID there _because_ it was a student pub and plenty of students were under eighteen, and it would be easy enough to make sure the bouncers knew Gabrielle was only seventeen if she _did_ choose to show her face.

"Are you kidding? This is _Jack_ we're talking about," Jane pointed out. If Jack had been determined to prove himself just as smart, if not smarter, than the older people he was studying with, then he had been twice as determined to prove that he could party just as hard as them. "He's not about not have a tea-party, not even for her. Besides, don't you remember what it was like when you turned twenty?" That turning point in life, when you said goodbye to your teenage years and everything that they represented. Jane smiled at the memory.

"My twentieth fell on a Saturday, I was working," Bianca reminded Jane bitterly. It didn't surprise her that Jane didn't remember; she didn't know anything about being poor and having to fight for the things trust fund babies like her took for granted.

Jane frowned slightly. Would Bianca ever let go of the fact she had grown up poor? Lots of people had – including Jack, and you didn't see _him_ going around with a massive chip on his shoulder. She wondered if Bianca would ever stop acting like she had been the most hard-done by person in the world. "He'll still have it at the pub," Jane said, ignoring Bianca's comment. "I imagine that will be quite an issue for them."

* * *

"Do you _have_ to have your birthday in a pub?" Gabrielle asked Jack. "Lots of people go to restaurants and bowling and – "

"And have tea-parties in the park with fairy bread," Jack said sarcastically. "Sorry," he said when he saw the look on Gabrielle's face. He seemed to be setting off that look a lot lately. He couldn't help it; she said so many dumb things, it seemed. "This is AUMEL, babe. We work hard and play hard. No-one would come if I did something that _wasn't_ in a pub."

"Then they can't be real friends," Gabrielle said primly. Jack wanted to smack her. She just didn't _get_ the important thing – and really showed her age sometimes. He reached for her and kissed her roughly. He didn't want to fight; he could think of far better ways to spend with his time. Gabrielle responded, trying to keep up with Jack's pace – it was clear what he wanted, and that he wanted it immediately. She didn't like it when he got like this, horny and rough and overriding her wishes, but tried to understand that he was stressed – and stressed because of the position his relationship with her put him in – and usually gave into him.

Like she did this time. She didn't protest when he pushed her onto the couch and started making out with her in earnest. Actually, she quite enjoyed it – there was no denying that Jack was a very talented lover. Not that she knew from personal experience, but... she arched her back as Jack brought his hands around it, pushing her body against hers. He was removing her bra, cupping her breasts, undoing her shirt, licking her nipples, and she gave herself to him entirely in a way that you only can with your first love. "Jack!" she cried out. "I love you..."

He pretended not to hear her. The sex hadn't been very satisfactory. She just didn't know what she was doing and teaching her was a slow, painstaking business – especially for him, who had been with dozens of older, highly experienced women.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. He had fallen for Gabrielle because she was sweet and innocent and entirely without pretensions, and now he was annoyed because all those things were working against him – he was in trouble with Pamela, he was bored sexually. He was nineteen, almost twenty, and had been mingling with people older than him for years; now he didn't know what he wanted, to be with someone his own age, or to be with the people he was used to being with.

He was glad when it was time to take Gabrielle home, glad that she didn't want to stay the night. He was restless, and he liked to be alone when he felt like this. They made plans to see each other on the weekend, after his party, and went back to his place to prowl around, feeling restless and unfulfilled – intellectually, emotionally and sexually.

* * *

Bianca was wearing a leather microminidress that zipped down the front and left very little to the imagination, showing off her considerable assets; long legs, generous cleavage, olive skin, dark hair flowing down her back. She knew every man in the room was looking at her, and got off on it. She had gotten a kick out of knowing men were attracted to her since she had been a teenager. Sex, she had learnt a long time ago, was power.

Jack couldn't help but notice her; every man in the place was watching her, and in this case, he was hardly an exception. She looked trashy, but she also looked insanely hot. He remembered how unsatisfying he had found sex with Gabrielle the last few weeks, and though he felt awful for thinking it, he couldn't help but admire the way Bianca looked... and think that she was no doubt someone who knew her way around the bedroom.

The night wore on, and the more he had to drink, the sexier Bianca became – and she knew it. It was obvious he was tightly wound – clearly, his girlfriend hadn't been putting out – and even if she had, how satisfying could she possibly be? "Having a good time?" she asked him seductively at the bar.

"Fine," he said. He couldn't help but notice her considerable cleavage. It wasn't that Gabrielle was completely lacking – although she _was_ seventeen to Bianca's twenty-two – but she had no idea how to show herself off like that. He usually liked that about her, but right now, well, he couldn't _not_ stop and appreciate Bianca's looks – even if she _did_ look trampy.

He couldn't imagine Gabrielle ever wearing something so tacky. At the same time, he couldn't he but like looking at Bianca in something so tacky.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Bianca asked, although she knew exactly where she was – at home, no doubt working on some lame assignment – what _did_ high schoolers study these days?

"At home," Jack said shortly.

"Things OK between you?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't they be?"

"It can't be easy. You've spent the last three years with people older than you, I know she's only two years younger than you on paper, but in reality, it's more than that. You're closer to my age than you are to hers."

"Sometimes I wish I weren't," he admitted. "It would be _nice_ to just be a normal nineteen-year-old doing... whatever it is normal nineteen-year-olds do."

Bianca laughed at that, and it struck Jack that she had a very sultry laugh. "Twenty," she corrected. "And I bet if you did normally nineteen-year-old things – whatever they are – you would be bored out of your brain. You're a brilliant man, Jack. You can do a lot better than – _most nineteen-year-olds_." She spoke the last four words with deep contempt, to let him know what she thought of most nineteen-year-olds – and what she thought of _him_.

"Thanks," he said. A compliment was nice, even if it _was_ coming from Bianca. Between Pamela and Gabrielle, he was sick of feeling like he wasn't doing a good enough job at anything. At least right here and right now, he felt like he was doing a damn good job of things.

"You're welcome," she said in a voice that matched her sultry laugh, and she leaned up to kiss him.

For a second Jack kissed her back, because he was drunk and horny and resentful for the position he found himself in because of his relationship with Gabrielle, and then pushed her away. "No," he said, all too aware of how good Bianca felt pressed up against him like that. And that dress – there couldn't be more than two square feet of material to that dress, framed by impressive cleavage and thighs that he knew were strong that she could do impressive things with. _Impressive_. There was a lot about Bianca that was _impressive_ right now.

She snaked her arm around his neck, twisting his hair in her fingers, running her fingertips along the back of his neck in a seductive way that Gabrielle could never have managed. "Relax, Jack," she whispered. "It's your birthday. You're allowed to be a little naughty." She pressed herself against him, and he could feel where her dress ended and her bare legs were pressing against his and he felt his pants tightened and a rush of lust that he hadn't experienced in several weeks.

He grunted, and she took that consent – well, that and his raging erection that was quite apparent. She grinned triumphantly. She had known that Jack would be easy enough to win over. It was quite obvious that he was unhappy in his relationship with Gabrielle Jaeger – she was too young and too inexperienced for him. Whereas she, Bianca Miller...

Jack let Bianca pushed him into a dark corner of the pub. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice rang out that what he was doing was wrong, so wrong, but a larger part didn't care. Or maybe it was just that there wasn't enough blood flowing to his brain – it was all heading south. So when Bianca kneeled in front of him and unzipped his pants, he shuddered with desire. He remembered how he'd had to plead with Gabrielle to go down with him, and how unsatisfactory it had been because she had hated it and made no attempt to hide it, and suddenly the only thing he wanted in the world was a blow-job from someone who knew how to do it and enjoyed it... or at least pretended to enjoy it. He would take pretend for the time being.

"Oh..._god_," he groaned when Bianca took him into her mouth. There was absolutely no doubt that she knew what she was doing. He bucked against the wall, grateful for its support, because without it he would have collapsed and fallen on his ass, and that would _really_ have killed the moment.

He completely forgot about Gabrielle. All that mattered was that Bianca Miller was giving him the greatest blow-job in the world. He grabbed a fist of her hair and used the leverage to thrust hard into her mouth exactly the way he had hated when it had been done to him, except with Bianca it didn't matter, because she was already taking him all the way down into her throat and it was the most exquisite pleasure he could remember. Biting down on his lip hard enough to make it bleed, he climaxed hard, spilling himself into her mouth.

She stayed on her knees, swallowing him voluntarily, not spitting out onto the floor in a way that always reminded Jack how revolting it was. She rose to her feet and smiled seductively, knowingly at Jack. "Your virgin know how to do that?" she asked. She turned around and pressed herself against him, her back against his chest, her ass against his crotch, and unbelievably, he could feel, along with the fact that she wore no underwear, that it wouldn't be long before he was ready to go again. "Your virgin know how to act like a _real_ woman in the bedroom?" she asked, her tone letting him know loud and clear that she didn't consider the bedroom to be the limit for such activities.

And Jack knew that he would be taking her home, Gabrielle and his own birthday be damned.

* * *

Jack just about threw Bianca against the wall once he finally got the front door open – his co-ordination was shot with the way her hands were all over him, and he wondered if he had no co-ordination in his fingers because it was all in his dick, which was raging hard again. He grabbed her and kissed her violently, grabbing the zipper to her dress and yanking it down. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were immediately exposed. Bianca murmured her appreciation when he started kissing her naked breasts. A little too rough for her liking, but still – he knew what to do with his tongue. And his hands. He would make a good surgeon. She reached down his pants to feel his erection. _Men_. They were all alike. Gabrielle would learn that eventually... or maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she would go through life like her mother, being used and discarded by men.

Jack flipped her around so she had her back to him, and pushed her down across the kitchen table. He yanked up the skirt of the super-short dress – he was right, she hadn't been wearing any underwear – to reveal her bare ass, bent over the table. She looked – and was acting – like a complete tramp, but after weeks of Gabrielle's conservative, inexperienced sexuality, it was a welcome change.

He pushed his fingers inside her and she sighed with pleasure. She was wet as anything, and it didn't take much from Jack's experienced fingers to bring her to climax. Deftly, he undid his pants to free his erection before plunging hard and deeply into Bianca in a way he wouldn't have dared do with Gabrielle for fear of hurting her. But Bianca just groaned with pleasure, and groaned more and louder as he began pumping her with abandon, thrusting frantically, thinking of nothing but obeying a sheer animal lust that was driving him to screw Bianca's brains out.

* * *

Jack had given Gabrielle a key to the share house so she could let herself in without him having to be there. Sitting at home on a Saturday night, she had felt bad about the arguments she had had with Jack over his birthday, and decided to go over and be there when he got back. At least she would get to spend his birthday with him _that_ way... and she was sure he would appreciate the surprise.

She heard the noises coming from the house a fair way from it, and her heart clenched painfully. She knew semester hadn't started yet, which meant Jack hadn't gotten his new housemates yet – but maybe one of them had arrived early. Certainly, it was a better theory than anything else...

... With a drawn-out groan, Jack climaxed again, his eyes tightly shut, then snapping open when he heard a gasp – to see Gabrielle standing there – while he was standing over Bianca Miller, his erection buried inside her.

He withdrew and zipped himself up. He knew there was no way he could explain this but he ran after her nonetheless. "Gabrielle!" he yelled after her. "Gabrielle, _wait_. What the _hell_ were you doing here anyway?"

The indignation of the question made Gabrielle stop dead in her tracks and allow Jack to catch up with her. "I wanted to surprise you for your birthday," she said bitterly. "_Surprise_." She hurled a heavy, rectangular object at him which could only be a hardcover book. He caught it deftly, and supposed he could only be happy that she hadn't decided to take it to his head; she was tall enough to manage it.

"Gabrielle – "

"Fuck you. Or better yet, go fuck _her_," Gabrielle said, laughing hollowly at her humour.

"Babe – " he went to grab her arm but she wrenched it away.

"Don't you _dare_ touch me," she said. "Don't you ever fucking touch me again." She broke into a run, determined to get away from him, and he was in no condition to keep up with her. She was out of his reach within a minute.

He trudged back to his house where Bianca was calmly waiting for him like nothing had happened – at least she had dressed, if you could call that 'dressed' – and smoking a cigarette, too, which he not only found personally revolting, but was against accommodation rules. Something else for Pamela to pitch a fit over. "You in trouble?" she asked, like it was some kind of bawdy joke. Actually, she _did_ find it kind of amusing. She had figured Gabrielle would figure something was up when Jack showed less and less interest in her, but she hadn't thought it would be quite so dramatic.

"Get out," Jack ordered.

She looked at him blankly, as if this was the last thing she had expected. "Sorry?" she asked.

"Get. The fuck. Out. Of my house," Jack said slowly. "_Get out!_" he screamed.

"Fine," Bianca said, a little put out – but hey, the guy had been busted with his pants down, he had the right to be a little angry. She was sure that in the morning he would realise that it was a pleasing in disguise and he would be much happier with someone like her. "I'll see you around," she said, sauntering out the door.

"You look like a hooker!" Jack yelled after her, which was true enough. It didn't make him feel any better. After all, if _she_ was no better than a prostitute, then what did that make him?

He backed against the wall and felt his knees buckle. He slid down the wall and burst into hysterical, drunk tears

8


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"It was amazing," Bianca told Jane the next day, reliving every moment in great, graphic detail – far more detail than Jane needed or wanted. "The look on her face!" She took a drag of her cigarette, and Jane wondered who, in this day and age, took up smoking – especially someone who knew better than most how unhealthy it was. "_Way_ out of her league, that girl."

Jane turned her head away so Bianca couldn't see the look of disgust on her face. The girl was taking far too much pleasure in Gabrielle's heartbreak that any decent human being ought to. She got that Bianca had a skewered view on fidelity because of her parent's unhappy marriage, but still, did that give her the right to take such pleasure out of someone else's misery over being cheated on? After all, Jack was the product of a pretty miserable marriage, too, and he didn't see it as his right to go around breaking up relationships? "And you think he'll be interested in you?" she asked. "Now that you've broken them up?" Not that either of them knew for certain that Jack and Gabrielle had broken up, but something told Jane that that was the reality. Girls like Gabrielle didn't stand for infidelity.

"Of course he will. Sexually, intellectually – we're a perfect match."

That might have been so, Jane though, but emotionally, Jack was a far better person than Bianca – and he had to know it. He might have slept with Bianca, but it had been an indiscretion committed when he had been drunk – whereas Bianca had planned it for weeks. Jane felt sick to think that she had gone along with Bianca's plans. Jack hadn't deserved it, and Gabrielle certainly hadn't. "I think you underestimate how he feels about her," Jane said. "He didn't like you much to begin with. But from now on, he's going to see you as the one who broke them up."

Bianca looked at Jane with irritation, then blew a smoke ring in her face, knowing how much she disliked the smell. "If you can't say something supportive then don't say anything at all."

* * *

"I don't know what you did or said, but she's gone," Gabrielle's aunt informed Jack with open hostility. Whatever hospitality he had enjoyed from the Jaegers had evaporated; they didn't take kindly to people hurting their own. She didn't give Jack the chance to say anything else; she slammed the door in his face.

_Shit_, Jack thought. So she had gone back to Widgee. Well, that hadn't taken her long – less than forty-eight hours had passed since Gabrielle had seen him with Bianca... his stomach churned to think about it. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. He couldn't believe he had gotten so worked up with the issues he had with Gabrielle that he had allowed himself to think that cheating on her OK, that it was OK because it was his birthday, because he was drunk... all the excuses that his dad had used to cheat on his step-mother.

The best thing that had ever happened to him, and he had screwed it up. And for what? A woman he could barely stand, a woman he wouldn't date if she was the last woman on earth – a woman who didn't seemed to be in possession of a heart, who didn't give a damn but anything other than herself and what she wanted.

He had to explain to Gabrielle. He had no idea what he was going to say, how he was going to explain being caught screwing someone else, but he needed to explain nonetheless. He needed to talk to her. Maybe once she saw him and knew how contrite he was –

He decided to go to the Jaeger farm. It took him over a day's worth of detours to find the place – he had only gone there once, after all – before he got there. Russel Jaeger, apparently having a sixth sense when it came to boys who broke his daughter's heart, was waiting on the front porch for him. "I was wondering whether or not you'd have the nerve to show your face," he growled.

"I need to see her," Jack said. He wondered where she was. She couldn't have gone far – Widgee wasn't that big. If he knocked on every door in town –

"No you don't. In fact, I would say what you _need_ is to go back to that den of iniquity of yours," Russel said, making every city in the world sound like the playground of the devil.

"Please... can you at least give this to her?" Jack asked, holding out a letter he'd written her.

Russel took in gingerly and grudgingly pocketed it. "Now will you get off my property before I shoot you?" he asked in a tone that told Jack he was more than capable of shooting the man who had broken his daughter's heart. Jack left and Russel went into the house, having no qualms about opening the letter.

_Dear Gabrielle,_

_I'm so, so sorry. I was drunk and frustrated although I know that's no excuse for the way I behaved. I was selfish and acted like my father, which is something I never wanted to do. I have no excuse for what I did and I have no right to ask you to forgive me, but I'm going to anyway, because you're the best thing that ever happened to me and I don't want to lose you. Please forgive me. Please let me try again._

_Jack._

With a grunt of disgust, Russel tossed the letter into the fire.

* * *

Jack tightened his jaw when he saw Bianca waiting outside his house. "I thought I told you to fuck off," he spat at her.

"You can't ignore me forever," she said.

"Watch me."

"You can't pretend it didn't happen, Jack. You can't pretend you didn't want me."

"No, I can't. And you know what? _You_ can't forget that the only time I would ever look twice at you is when I'm drunk... so don't think hanging outside my house is going to change that."

Bianca flinched at the words. It was true; she couldn't forget that the only time Jack had looked twice at her was when he had been drunk. Hell, Jane had managed to strike up a friendship with him, but he had nothing but indifference or contempt for her. It wasn't the way she had planned it. She had meant for Jack to see how much better he was with someone as smart as he was, as sexually experienced as he was... but instead, all he could think about was that silly schoolgirl who had run back to her father. Her expression changed to one of hatred. "You men are all alike," she spat. "You blame _me_ for what happened when _you_ were the one who cheated."

"I don't blame you, Bianca," Jack said flatly, although he would love to be able to. After all, nothing would have happened if she hadn't come onto him - _twice_ now - when he was drunk. But at the heart of it, he knew he couldn't blame her for what had happened, at least not entirely. If he hadn't been so full, of himself and how hard his life was because of his relationship with Gabrielle, he would never have done it. He had seen sex as an entitlement, just like his father did, and he hated himself for it. He certainly couldn't hate Bianca _more_. "But if you hadn't been there, if you hadn't come onto me... none of this would have happened. So I don't want to see you. I don't want you in my house, I don't want to see you around campus if I can help it, and I certainly don't want to have sex with you."

Bianca looked at him with cold hate. She knew he was serious. For reasons that were completely unfathomable to her, he would rather have that country hick virgin than her. She reached out and slapped Jack with all the force she could muster. He took the blow as if it were his due; after all, it was only what he deserved - not even - for what he had done to Gabrielle. "Would you go now?" he asked with quite resignation that was worse than hate. At least if he hated her, he would _feel_ something for her.

Vowing revenge, Bianca stormed off. Jack let himself into the house and made a beeline for the fridge, pulling out lemonade and vodka from the pantry, then he reconsidered it and poured a hefty serve of vodka straight into a class and downed it. He could get drunk quicker if he skipped the mixer.

He knew he was drinking too much. He knew Pamela would pitch a fit if she knew how much he was drinking. But what the hell - uni hadn't started yet, and besides, he was twenty years old, he could drink if he wanted to.

_Twenty_, he thought miserably. He had been so looking forward to the milestone as a symbolic farewell to the teenage years that he had hated so much. But being twenty without Gabrielle was far more miserable than being nineteen with her.

He poured himself another vodka.

* * *

"I can't believe he gave me the brush-off!" Bianca fumed to Jane.

Jane was getting a little tired of Bianca's anger when it came to the way Jack treated her - actually, a lot tired. "What did you expect?" she asked. "He would just say, by the way, thanks for making my girlfriend leave me, why don't we get together sometime?"

Bianca's eyes glittered in that way they did when she felt she was being challenged. _"I_ didn't make her leave,_" _she said with haughty indignation. _"I _wasn't the one who cheated._"_

The problem with Bianca, Jane thought, was she had no idea about the reality of cheating. She thought that, since her father had left her mother for his mistress, than the same trick would work for her. But Jack wasn't some immoral philanderer - he had been deeply in love with Gabrielle - no doubt still was - who had made a mistake. OK, two mistakes. Both of which when he was drunk. With someone who had been determined to cause whatever trouble between them that she could. That was hardly the same as a woman who was a compulsive cheat. "You can't make him love you," Jane said. _Although I'm sure you've made him hate you_.

"I hate him," Bianca declared suddenly. "He can't just - sleep with me and dump me. He'll regret it."

_I'm sure he will_, Jane thought. _Just not in the way you think_.

She went to see Jack that day. He glared hatefully when he saw her and went to slam the door in her face, but she was too quick for him. "Get the fuck out," he growled at her.

"It's not good to drink alone," she said gently. She could smell the alcohol like he'd showered in it.

"Haven't you heard? I'm not a good person."

"You're a better person that you give yourself credit for. You're certainly a better person that Bianca is." It occurred to Jane that Bianca didn't understand why Jack didn't want her because she didn't understand how upset Jack was over Gabrielle leaving, because she didn't understand what it was to be crazy about someone and remorseful about hurting the, and destroyed that you'd lost them. "Have you tried to talk to her?" Jane asked.

"Her dad won't let me see her. I wrote her a letter but I don't think he gave it to her."

"Jack, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I knew she wanted you. I knew how good you and Gabrielle were together. I should have said something."

He stared at a fixed position on the wall, his brain working slowly through the alcohol in his head, realising some truths about himself. "Even if you had... that wouldn't have stopped me feeling like I was entitled to do it," he said, and Jane was deeply struck by the fact that while both Jack and Bianca had lived lousy childhoods in broken homes, the difference was that Jack hadn't twisted his experience into a sense of entitlement. He didn't go around thinking the world owed him every convenience and every desire because he hadn't had the kind of privileged upbringing that Jane had. Jane was suddenly awed that Jack both thought that way and thought it being three years younger than him.

No wonder he had no interest in Bianca. Bianca was way beneath him.

"You made a mistake," Jane said, although she knew that would be of no comfort to Jack. She reached out to him, but he shrugged her off.

"Leave me alone," he said thickly.

"Jack – you shouldn't be alone," she said, reiterating her first comment.

Jack's eyes flashed, the hatred he felt for himself tunnelling outward, and Jane shivered. She had known that Jack was capable of anger and violence, but to actually see that side of him coming through. "Leave," he said again. "Leave before I _throw you out_," he spat, and Jane had no doubt that Jack was capable of physically throwing her out.

She left him to it, hoping that she would catch him at some later date when he was sober. After all, uni went back in a few weeks, and Jack couldn't continue to piss away his life like this.

When she was gone, Jack hit the vodka again. He knew what he was doing was unproductive, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that enough alcohol could dull the pain of Gabrielle leaving him – not by much, but it was better than the stone-cold reality of knowing that she had left him and that he had no-one but himself to blame for that fact. He couldn't even blame Bianca, he knew, although he would love to be able to. He had slept with someone else – although 'sleeping with' was a kind euphemism for what they had done – because he had been drunk and full of entitlement. He had resented the aggro that had come from Gabrielle being seventeen, and thought that gave him the right to betray her like that.

And it had even been the only time. Perhaps if it _had_, he would feel better about it. But he had done it before. Drunk that time as well, but still –

Was it because he was his father's son? Was he incapable of fidelity, even though he knew how much heartache it caused? Was he destined to go through life, screwing around and treating women like objects? No sense in telling himself that if he was like his father, he wouldn't feel so awful about Gabrielle. All he could think about was that he had done something he had sworn he would never do.

The vodka went down well, hardly burning at all, and blurred the edges of his pain.

* * *

If Bianca had been angry in the face of Jack's initial disinterest in her, now she was furious. That he seemed to be making an attempt to drink himself to death didn't matter to her; what did was that he had rejected her.

Jane wasn't sure exactly what she had hoped to achieve. After all, in the history of infidelity, how many 'other women' had actually ended up with the men they had been cheating with? And Bianca wasn't even the other woman – she had been a two-time distraction when Jack had been drunk and horny. What did she think she would achieve? That she would become like one of her father's many mistresses – no, one in particular. The one who had usurped her mother as his wife.

Instead, he was drinking constantly and didn't seem to care much about how it was affecting everything around him. Pamela Hastings had already gone to see him (at Bianca's urgings, Jane suspected) and he had told her that he was doing nothing wrong. Which was true enough; there was no uni for him to be falling behind on, although Pamela had made some noises about 'abuse of university accommodation'. The truth was, Pamela – and the university – didn't want to lose him, but neither did she want to see her prized student doing this to himself... it reflected badly on the university.

Jack had told her they were welcome to throw him out; he knew damn well that they wouldn't. Besides, Jane suspected that he truly didn't care – and that was the most worrying thing. People got their hearts broken all the time, but Jack was taking it far worse than she had ever seen. He had really loved her, she realised – _still_ loved her.

And she had helped Bianca – or at least condoned her actions. And comparing Jack's distress with Bianca's arrogant fury only made Jane more aware of that. "He's upset," Jane said.

"Upset? Why? I did him a favour." Jane stared at her so-called friend, wondering if Bianca truly believed what she was saying. Was she really that full of herself that she thought Jack was better off without someone he was obviously crazy about – and who was good for him, far better than Bianca could ever be. Was she so entitled that she thought nothing of breaking a happy couple up so long as it got her what she wanted?

Jane had thought Bianca acted the way she did because of her crummy childhood. She was beginning to think that she acted the way she did because she was a first-class bitch.

"... He has no right to ignore me," Bianca said loftily. "What, does he think he's better than me?"

The idea made Jane laugh. "No," she said sweetly. "He doesn't _think_ he's better than you. He _knows_ it."

* * *

He had recognised the symptoms. He'd had it before. The last time, they had gone away after a few weeks and, not knowing any better, he had hoped that meant it had gone away.

He knew now that that was common with syphilis. He also knew that the way so-called medical professionals looked at you when telling you that you had the disease in its tertiary stage was almost as humiliating as learning you had the disease in the first place.

And now he had it again, and he felt just as dirty and ashamed as he had the first time around. Funny that he should; you were talking about the difference between being sexually abused for two years and a night's unprotected indiscretion – but the dirtiness was the same. His blood felt tainted, his entire being felt tainted.

He made his way home, feel numb. He couldn't believe this was happening again. Maybe he was being punished.

How many times did he have to be punished?

He settled himself on the couch with his vodka, trying to blur the pain that had worked to some degree every night for the past few weeks. Except, this time, it didn't work. This time, all it seemed to do was make him feel sicker and sicker – and all-pervading sickness that had nothing to do with the alcohol he was using to poison himself with. He remembered, like it had been yesterday and he was thirteen again, being raped and being told that he had aged for it – _begged_ for it. He remembered his step-mother not believing him, and telling him that he was a useless slut, just like his mother...

Jack took a deep, shuddering breath and felt the tears start to flow. He didn't care; he didn't care about anything anymore. Everything had got to shit, everything that had mattered he had lost – or perhaps he had never had it.

When the alcohol failed to work, he retrieved his diazepam prescription from his bedroom. An hour later, his stomach revolted from the combination of the two drugs on an empty stomach, and he threw it all up.

It reminded him of all the other times he had spent on his knees, throwing up.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted his razor on the edge of the sink and suddenly, it all seemed clear, the solution crystal in his mind and bringing him the first bit of peace he could remember having. He reached for the razor...

* * *

"Jack?" Jane had had her doubts about going to see him, but she had heard that he had been particularly upset over something this afternoon and had figured she should at least make the effort. She had been thinking a lot these last few days about Jack and Gabrielle, and Bianca, and that maybe if she had said something to Jack weeks ago about how determined Bianca was to break them up, maybe he could have done something about it and maybe no he wouldn't be so miserable. _Miserable_? she asked herself ruefully. _She_ had been miserable when her first boyfriend had broken up with her in year eight; _Jack_ was practically suicidal.

That, and she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that something was very, very wrong.

"Jack?" she asked again when there was no answer. Not that she had expected there to be; Jack had made it clear the last time she had gone over that she wasn't welcome. Like _that_ was any deterrent; the lock on her parent's liquor cabinet had been a more advanced one than the ones AUMEL supplied for their student accommodation, and she had worked out how to steal her parent's booze – actually about the same time her first boyfriend had broken her heart in year eight. She unlocked the door with no effort and let herself in, hoping that he wouldn't be so pissed at her (not to mention pretty pissed himself) as to commit violence on her. God knew, he had a good case for self-defence after she had broken into his house.

The house was quiet, and Jane's first thought was that Jack had drunk himself to sleep. Well, she was here now, she may as well make sure. To get to his room, she had to pass the bathroom, and it was then that her heart stopped. Jack had slit his wrists, and by the look of it, done a pretty good job.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Doctor Zoe Gallagher, Resident, ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair, trying to work out what the hell was wrong with her patient. What drugs and alcohol that had been in Jack's blood when he had been admitted had long since been flushed out, and there was no history of anger or psychosis in his records or his family's. But every time the drugs he was being sedated with wore off, he woke up disoriented and became violent and hysterical whenever a guard attempted to restrain him, bursting his stitches every single time. He couldn't even be admitted to the psychiatric ward, because he would only need to be readmitted into the ED when he inevitably burst his stitches again.

Zoe went through his medical file again. There was nothing to suggest his violence and hysteria. Brilliant student at AUMEL, no history of drug abuse or mental illness, the poison he'd already subjected his body through long since flushed out. There was no reason for him to be reacting the way he was, and they couldn't very well keep him unconscious for the weeks it would take for his wrists to heal, at least enough that he didn't keep bursting his damn stitches.

It was a mystery, and Zoe had always liked mysteries. Except they were far more entertaining in a book when you knew it would all be worked out in the end and your involvement wouldn't affect the outcome.

Suddenly her eyes focused on something so obvious that it was almost natural to have missed it. Treated for tertiary syphilis at age sixteen. Who the hell was treated for _tertiary_ syphilis that young unless –

She went to Jack's bed, where the drugs were starting to wear off. "You can go," she said with the guard. "I'll stay with him."

The guard looked at her slender frame dubiously. Given the violence Jack Quade had shown himself capable of, he could overpower her in a heartbeat. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

"I do," she said, with an authority and confidence that belied the fact she was only twenty-five. With some doubts, the guard left her alone with Jack.

He woke shortly after, and the usual disorientation followed. "Easy, Jack," Zoe said calmly. "You're in the ED of Can State." No sense in condescending a fourth-year medical student and acting like they didn't know what Canberra State Hospital was. "Right now, I really need you to stay calm or we'll have to restrain you again, and you've caused us a massive headache every time we've had to do that."

It worked like a charm. Zoe realised he had reacted to being restrained – and by a fairly hefty male guard, no less – out of a deep-rooted sense of homophobia born of having been sexually abused. Sixteen-year-olds tended not to get tertiary syphilis... unless they had been sexually abused. This recent infection, wherever he had gotten it from, must have pushed him over the edge.

Her heart went out to him. Her childhood had been pretty lousy as well – her parents had died when she and her brother had been young, and DOCS had split them up, never to see each other again – but compared to that... she frowned slightly, remembering her conversation with Stella Quade. Some people just didn't deserve to be parents.

"So you'll behave?" Zoe asked. Jack turned away from her. "I tell you what," she said, wildly promising something that wasn't actually within her power to promise. "How about I promise I'll be the only one to treat you." Jack turned back to face her and she saw him taking her in and deciding that he would much rather deal with her than a guard.

"No drugs," he said.

"You won't cause a fuss and need to be sedated?" she asked. For someone who had swallowed most of a bottle of vodka followed by half a dozen diazepam pills, he was sure showing a reluctance to take any more. But Zoe supposed that loss of control over his own body – not to mention his mind – was something else entirely when you were talking about the difference between the comfort and security of a setting you knew, and an unfamiliar place teeming with strangers. Jack nodded slowly. "It's a deal then."

"You had no right to promise him such a thing!" Zoe's boss, Adam Pritchard, fumed at her when he found out.

"I got him to calm down, didn't I?" Zoe asked. "Look, I have a feeling about this kid. He's in a lot of pain, but I think it's something he can work though with the right treatment. Look, the first sign that he's not responding to me, you can give him another doctor, OK? But trust me on this until that happens," she said, confident that that would never happen.

"So what made you do it?" Zoe asked Jack had been moved to a general ward, and, under threat of being transferred to the psychiatric ward, was being the model patient; Zoe, upholding her end of the bargain, saw him daily. It was hardly a chore; he was an incredibly intelligent, insightful young man, older and wiser – and sadder – than his twenty years would suggest. And he liked seeing Zoe, which made him an improvement on _most_ of her patients. He talked to her when he wouldn't talk to his psychiatrist, which she couldn't help but find a little flattering. "You know syphilis can be treated." Not to mention that slitting your wrists was quite an ineffective way of trying to kill yourself. Given how much alcohol and valium he'd had in his system at the time, Zoe would bet that it had been an impulsive thing.

Jack smiled wanly. "I felt like I was reliving it," he said. "I couldn't stop thinking about what that bastard did to me. No matter what I swallowed, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I just wanted to _not_ think about it." He stared at a random point on the wall, thinking about Gabrielle. They said time heals all wounds, but missed her even more now that he was sober. "Maybe it was my punishment."

"For what?"

"For the way I treated Gabby. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. She made me feel... nineteen. And I threw it away 'cos I was thinking with my dick." Zoe nodded. Simply spending time with Jack in this past week made it difficult to remember that he was only twenty; it was little wonder that, after the life he'd led, he would find it difficult to remember that himself. He had fallen for someone his own age and screwed it up because he was so used to being with jaded older people that he'd become that himself.

"I was going over your academic transcript," she said. "I can't believe you've achieved what you have. AUMEL isn't exactly a breeze to get into. I should know, I was rejected," she added with a rueful laugh.

"You and ninety-nine percent of the would-be doctors in Australia," Jack replied, rewarding Zoe with a small smile before turning serious again. "It was just something that I was good at." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what I'm going to do about uni. My scholarship co-ordinator was already pissed at me." And he found himself explaining how vocal Pamela had been against his relationship with Gabrielle.

Things started piecing together. A brilliant young man – Zoe was humble enough to recognise that, despite being five years older and being a Resident, Jack was smarter than her, and probably had been for the last five years – he had never gotten less than a Distinction despite being younger than everyone else and overloading on his course load. He had been abused all his life – sexually in his teens, and by the sounds of it, verbally and emotionally by his step-mother all his life – and had never really known how to act like a kid because of it. So of course it was natural for him to act older than he was, and he'd excelled as a medical student because of it. But he'd been an angry, unsettled man who was being expected to act older than he was and take on more than anyone should be asked to. The breakdown of his relationship with Gabrielle and his reinfection with Syphilis had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

She felt a surge of anger towards this Pamela Hastings woman, who clearly had no idea how ridiculous it was to expect Jack to perform the way she had expected him to. He might be mixing with people older than him, but he was still only twenty, and it was outrageous for Ms. Hastings to expect him to act like anything _but_ a twenty-year-old... and to threaten his scholarship over a perfectly legal relationship that was unseemly only in her eyes. If that had been the standard that had been expected of him the last three years, no wonder he had reached breaking point. "I'll look into it for you," she said. "Oh, and you should call your sister," she added as an afterthought.

Jack's expression was completely blank. "Sister?" he asked.

"Jane," Zoe said. She knew full well that there was no relationship between Jack Quade and Jane Grey – beyond that of a concerned friend – but Jane _had_ actually been concerned, which was more than could be said for Jack's _actual_ family, so Zoe figured that until she heard otherwise, she would go along with the deception. And maybe give Jack a few hints that _he_ was to go along with the deception. "Jane," she repeated helpfully. "I figured she was your half-sister. No _way_ did you two grow up together." That Jane Grey had enjoyed a privileged upbringing was almost as apparent as Jack's working-class roots.

Pamela Hastings, Zoe found, looked exactly like what one would expect of a bureaucrat; average build, smart but impossibly dull clothes that said she followed the rules but didn't try to be daring or innovative, stonewalling expression on her face that said she was used to having people contest things with her – and used to having them leave empty-handed. Well, Zoe wasn't a student reliant on Pamela's goodwill; Pamela was going to find her a much harder case to get around.

Pamela was less than pleased to see Zoe. She had attempted to find out about Jack's condition, only to be bluntly informed that, not being family, it was none of her business. Ha, Jane Grey had managed to find out – but Jane was demonstrating fierce loyalty to Jack. Not to mention the two women seemed to share the opinion that the university was somehow responsible for Jack's condition. "We gave him the opportunity of a lifetime," she said. "And he's repaid us by being an ungrateful child."

"One thing we seem to agree on, Ms. Hastings, is that Jack is a child – or at least, he _was_ when you took him on as a student," Zoe said. "One you expected to perform and behave like an adult."

"We have plenty of _children_ attending this university, Doctor Gallagher. We don't have problems with _them_."

"And do you tell all of them that their scholarships depend on them dating the _right_ kind of person?" Zoe asked. "Really, what _would_ the media make of it that you threatened to cut of a nineteen-year-old for dating a seventeen-year-old. Come to think of it, what do you think they would make of the fact that no-one tried to police a sixteen-year-old spending his nights with nineteen-year-olds in the campus tavern... and then turned around and tried to catch him giving alcohol to his seventeen-year-old girlfriend."

"I'm sure they would agree with me that Jack was the recipient of a very generous offer from the university which he repaid with ingratitude," Pamela said, but she was shaken by Zoe's words. The truth was, she couldn't find anyone but Bianca Miller – who she suspected had an axe to grind – to support the fact that Jack had been anything less than vigilant when it came to keeping Gabrielle away from alcohol and anything else that, as a seventeen-year-old, she shouldn't be exposed to.

Zoe knew she had Pamela on the defensive. Hell, she had known just by the fact Pamela had been willing to see her that she had her on the defensive. Bureaucrats didn't make time for junior Residents – and, in a university like AUMEL's, one of the ninety-five percent of junior residents who had been rejected by them – unless they knew they had something on them. "The thing is, Jack has absolutely nothing to lose," Zoe said. "His heart's broken. Hell, talking about how he was sexually, emotionally and verbally abused all his life only to be exploited by a so-called upstanding institution might even get him back into the girl's good books – and if it doesn't, he doesn't care if he's exposed."

_Sexually, emotionally and verbally abused. _Pamela certainly hadn't known about _that_. She wouldn't have particularly cared, either – her job was to attract the brightest minds that the country had to offer, personal situations were outside that. But she could see what a draw Jack could be if he played that card; the working-class boy who had been exploited all his life, only to be exploited by what was supposed to be one of the country's finest institutions. Of course, Pamela didn't see it that way, but she could see how easily the _media_ might see it.

"What do you want?" she asked, and Zoe knew she had won.

"What?" Jack asked, unable to believe what she was telling him.

"You defer for a year and go back next February, same deal as before – scholarship, stipend, the works. They'll keep paying your stipend for that year, and you'll be able to collect unemployment, or work. My suggestion? Do something mindless. Travel. You've never been beyond Canberra and Sydney, have you?" she asked.

"Widgee," Jack said. "It's a town near the Victorian border – on our side," he explained when Zoe looked confused. "It's where Gabrielle lives."

"Well, then, you've never been outside New South Wales," she said, although technically, the ACT counted as outside New South Wales. "Get out of the state. Get out of the _country_ if you can afford it. New Zealand's lovely this time of year. Take a break. Have _fun_. Act like a twenty-year-old and come back with some perspective."

"I don't know if I know how to do that," Jack said sadly. He knew how to pit his intelligence and cynicism against people twice his age, but act twenty?

"I think you'll be surprised how many things you can learn if you stop putting so much pressure on yourself to be this ace achiever," Zoe said wisely.

Jack nodded slowly. It couldn't hurt to try, and he sort of owed it to her to try after she had gone in to bat for him like this. "Why are you doing this for me?" he asked.

"My parents died when I was young and I grew up in foster care," Zoe said. She rarely spoke about it – never to any of her colleagues, and only a few times to her husband – but there was something about Jack, even as her patient – well, former patient – that made him easy to confide in. "I haven't seen my brother since. I'm not self-absorbed enough to think my childhood was anything compared to yours, but I do sort of know what it's like to have no-one in your corner. And it was a pleasure to get one over such a bureaucrats bitch as Pamela Hastings."

Jack smiled at that; Pamela _could_ be a bitch at times. "Thanks for all your help," he said. "I've never had someone in my corner from me. Wish I'd had a big sister like you."

Zoe smiled at that; she had thought Jack was about to say _mother_. "Speaking of which," she said. "There's a charming young woman who I would marry if I were you. If that's what she's like as a friend, I think she'd be quite a tiger as a wife."

"She just feels guilty. She reckons she's to blame for me and Gabby breaking up."

Jack had already told her about the events leading up to his and Gabrielle's breakup and from the sound of it, all Jane Grey was guilty of was poor judgement in her friendships, something that she was trying to rectify. "I know you find this hard to believe, Jack, but there are some people in the world who genuinely care about you for yourself." Not that she could blame him for not believing that, when his experience with people wanting him had largely consisted of a paedophile and a university that used him to shore up their academic record. "If I were you, I wouldn't let Jane out of my life."

"He's leaving?" Bianca asked, and she made it sound like Jack was leaving _her_ – not only that, but that he was leaving a long and beautiful relationship instead of turning his back on a woman who had pursued him doggedly and delighted in hurting his girlfriend.

"He's deferring for a year," Jane said. Because Jack had chosen to slit his wrists before uni went back, she was the only student who knew exactly what had happened. Administrators like Pamela Hastings did, of course, but Pamela wasn't about to admit that one of the university's prized students had tried to kill himself, partly out of a situation that Pamela had brought out. So it was easy enough for Jane to tell people that Jack had taken his breakup with Gabrielle very hard and was deferring university for a year. God knew, she wasn't about to tell _Bianca_ the real reason.

"To go back to that dumb virgin," Bianca said with a sneer.

"If he thought he would have any success, I've no doubt that he would," Jane said.

"How _could_ he?" Bianca asked in a pseudo-tragic voice that could have come from a soap opera.

"He loves her," Jane said. "Still does, and maybe always will." She recalled the look on his face when he had talked about it. He had accepted that it was over, but getting over her was an entirely different story – maybe he never would. For the few months that he and Gabrielle had been together, he had been a different person; Jane hadn't realised it until now that Jack acted much older than he was. Love had wound back the years and made him the age he actually was, not someone much older, wiser – and sadder. And now it was over and he might never get over her.

"He can't," Bianca said with a sneer. "He can't possibly see anything in her. What's she got that I don't?"

Jane knew that Bianca wasn't to know that Jack had tried to kill himself, but still, her self-absorption reeked of tackiness. And something told her that Bianca would no more care even if she _did _know that Jack had tried to kill himself, at least not beyond how it affected her. "Integrity," Jane said. "Compassion. A _heart_." It was a good think that Bianca was brilliant and beautiful, Jane thought, because no-one was ever going to want her for herself.

Bianca's eyes glittered dangerously, but Jane no longer cared. Seeing the depths of misery that Jack was going through had made her realise just what a monster of selfishness her so-called 'friend' was. For a long time, Jane had felt sympathy for Bianca, but the reality was that she was a first-class bitch who had happened to have an unhappy childhood; the latter was not the cause of the former. "How _dare_ you," she hissed. "You, with your perfect blond looks and your rich, _married_ parents – I didn't have one-tenth of the things you had growing up," she said, as if her lack of luxuries and an absentee father growing up gave her a licence to take what she wanted without a care for anyone else as an adult.

"Neither did Jack," Jane said. "And you don't see _him_ destroying people's lives 'cos he thinks the world owes him."

Bianca's eyes glittered even harder, and Jane knew that she had made an enemy for life. But she didn't care. Bianca Miller was rotten to the core, a heartless bitch who thought her crappy childhood gave her the right to use everyone how she saw fit. And Jane was happy to wash her hands of her.

Jane left Bianca to her fury. They had been friends for four years now – since they had started together – with Jane being a faithful doppelganger. But ever since the summer holidays had started and she had struck up a friendship with Jack, she had become a totally different person. Bianca just didn't understand what Jane saw in her – surely he would better relate to someone like Bianca, who had grown up in a similar area and been the product of a broken home, than a rich girl with happily married parents like Jane?

Jack Quade should have been hers. But not only wasn't he _not_, but Jane had turned on her and told her that it was because she was heartless. Ha, who needed to be a bleeding heart anyway? It got you nowhere – just look at her mother.

Muttering hatefully at no-one in particular, Bianca promised herself that neither Jack Quade not Jane Grey would go unpunished for this slight.

"Don't be a stranger," Zoe said. She was sitting with him on a bench near the main parking lot of Canberra State, waiting for his 'sister' to pick him up. "Here," she said, handing him a piece of paper with her name and number on it. She knew it was slightly unethical, but what the hell – Jack had long since been transferred out of the ED, where he had ceased to be her patient, and it wasn't like she was displaying a romantic interest in him.

She would miss him. Aside from his moments of deep melancholy when he got to thinking about Gabrielle or his unhappy childhood, he was a highly enjoyable companion. Despite his phenomenal intelligence and sterling academic record, there was very little arrogance about him; with any luck, he might end up one of the few humble doctors that New South Wales could boast of. He certainly made a nice change to her husband, who had the prerequisite surgeon's super-ego.

"Thanks," Jack said, pocketing the piece of paper. He was more grateful to Zoe than he could ever express, for listening to him and understanding him as well as going in to bat for him against Pamela. He wondered if he would ever cross paths with her again; it seemed likely, given that the New South Wales medical community wasn't exactly huge. He saw Jane's car pull up, and stood up. Zoe stood up with him, and he hugged her. "Thanks for everything," he said again.

"You're welcome. I just wish _all _my patients were as cooperative, intelligent and good-looking as you," she half-joked.

Jack got in the car and waved goodbye as Jane drove off. Zoe waved back. It had certainly been an experience she wasn't likely to forget. And given how small the New South Wales medical community was, it wouldn't surprise her if their paths crossed a few years from now. She only hoped that if and when they did, he would be in a much happier mindset than he was right now.

Russel Jaeger took the news of Gabrielle's pregnancy with surprising calm. After all, it wasn't like he could do much about it except, what, disown her, and she was his only daughter, he couldn't do that.

She had been more upset about it than he was. Seventeen and pregnant to a man who had cheated on her – a man who was unreachable. An administrator had said that they had no record of Jack Quade, either as a student or on-campus resident. And after trawling through all the Quades in the Sydney White Pages, they had discovered that his own father had no idea where he was, either.

He had, it appeared, dropped off the face of the earth.

"You'll be OK," Russel had told her, outwardly calm but inwardly full of fury that that insensitive, selfish city brat had used his daughter and abandoned her to her fate. "I'll always be here for you." And he would be, he promised himself. Life would be hard enough for Gabrielle from now on; he wasn't about to add his judgement to it. Certainly, there would be enough judging from the town's residents. There would be some, like the Crofts and the Walkers, who would be just as supportive of Gabrielle as he planned on being, but there would be plenty of others who would denounce her for being a twit and a slut while thinking nothing of a man who would cheat on her and abandon her to her fate.

OK, so Jack hadn't exactly abandoned Gabrielle; Gabrielle had sought refuge for a broken heart, and Russel had threatened physical violence against Jack if he dared violate that sanctuary. But if he hadn't been such a bastard to her in the first place, none of this would have happened. If he had been the kind of man his daughter deserved, he would be marrying her right now.

Hell, if he had been the kind of man his daughter deserved, he never would have seduced her, let alone been too selfish to use a condom. He had been more than halfway through a medical degree, for heaven's sake; surely he knew a thing or two about contraception?

Well, it was done now, and there was no undoing it. Gabrielle would stay here and have her child here, where at least she would have friends and family to love and protect her. And Jack Quade would rot in hell.

A few days later, Russel went to get the mail from the post office – Australia Post didn't deliver to individual farms this far out. He recognised the writing on one envelope immediately – it was the same as on the letter Jack had given him to give to Gabrielle – the letter that Russel had tossed into the fire.

Russel felt no qualms about opening his daughter's mail – even if it _was_ a federal offence. She was his seventeen-year-old daughter, and he had broken her heart. He had every right to run interference.

_Dear Gabby,_

_I've deferred uni for a year. I couldn't take it after you left and sort of imploded. I think this will be for the best. I've always had to act far older than I actual was – maybe this way I can learn how to just be a kid._

_I behaved appallingly towards you and I don't expect you to be able to forgive me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I blew it because I was selfish. I have no excuse for my actions. But if you ever find that you can forgive me, my new number is below. Obviously, you won't be able to contact me at the house because I no longer live there. My student email won't work for that reason, either._

_I'm going to use this opportunity to travel and work. I want you to know that a day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of you and wished I could do it all over and be the man that you deserve. But I can't, and all I can say is that I'm sorry._

_Love, Jack._

A mobile number was scrawled at the bottom of the page along with a hotmail address. Russel sneered in disgust. He thought it highly unlikely that someone as selfish as Jack could 'not take it'; he was far too self-absorbed to be worried about something like his girlfriend breaking up with him. For someone like Jack, there was always another girl to be had.

But still – his daughter was pregnant and he had the means of contacting the father. Not that he wanted Jack having anything to do with Gabrielle; she would be much better off without her baby's father than with a cheating jerk for a father.

"Gabrielle," Russel asked his daughter that night. "If Jack knew about the baby, would he marry you?"

Gabrielle laughed outright at that, the first time she had laughed since coming back to the farm after discovering Jack's infidelity. But it wasn't a happy laugh; it was a sad, bitter laugh, the laugh of someone who finds something bitterly and ironically amusing. "_Jack?_ God, no. His father married his step-mother for that reason, then proceeded to screw around on her compulsively 'cos he'd never wanted to be married – that's how Jack was conceived, with some barmaid. He wouldn't marry me 'cos of the baby. God, even if he'd been thinking about it, it would probably put him right off. Why do you ask?"

So Jack was the product of a philanderer himself, not to mention a barmaid who clearly didn't value something as sacrilegious as marriage vows. _The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree_, Russel thought contemptuously. Like he wanted someone like _that_ having anything to do with his grandchild. Initially, he had pondered the possibility that Jack might be willing to marry Gabrielle, under the circumstances; now he was glad he knew what kind of background the boy came from. Even if Jack _could _be convinced to marry Gabrielle, no doubt it would be a miserable union and he would resent her every day for trapping him and continue to cheat on her with abandon; after all, if he couldn't keep in it his pants for a few months, what did that say for his ability to be faithful for a _lifetime_? No, they were far better off without him hanging around. "No reason," he said. "Just wondering."

And so Jack's letter joined its brother in the ashes of the Jaeger fireplace.

4


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_2002_

"Hey, what's up?" Jack asked Jane when he ran into her, clearly upset, on his way back to his student accommodation. The year off had done him wonders. Seeing a world outside of his work-class roots in Sydney and university life in Canberra had done him more good than all the academic success in the world, and given him perspective, as well as helped ease the pain in his heart over Gabrielle.

And it helped that he was now in the year below Bianca, so he hardly ever saw her, except in passing on campus. He had made an enemy out of her, he knew, although he didn't know why – it wasn't like he had ever promised her anything, and what the hell had she expected, seducing a man when he was drunk? He didn't hold her responsible for his breakup with Gabrielle, but how could she possible have thought that something would come of their drunken liaison?

Well, it was done, and he tried not to think about it. Besides, he figured he kind of owed Bianca – in the form of his friendship with Jane. Jane had certainly been there for him in the last eighteen months. She had always been free to take his phone calls, replied promptly to his emails and had, he discovered with delight, kept all his postcards in a box she'd bought for that particular purpose. It was one more thing that Zoe Gallagher had been right about; Jane was someone who liked him for himself, and it was a heady feeling.

It was unusual to see her upset; Jane was rarely rattled by anything. Jack frowned, thinking it had to be over this professor of hers. Jane was, at times, highly capable of being very naive, like when she had started seeing a married professor of hers. Jack had tried to reason with her – the guy would never leave his wife, he should know, seeing so many of his dad's other women hold onto that expectation, including, no doubt, his own mother – but Jane had been adamant that she was different, and Jack had figured the only thing he could do was see it out with her.

"Hey," he said when he saw just how upset Jane was. Maybe it _wasn't _her professor; she looked too upset even for that. Maybe someone had died. "You look like you could do with a stiff drink."

She looked at him tearfully. "I can't," she cried. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh. Oh, baby. Come here." And he embraced Jane tightly before she could push him away. "C'mon, I'll take you back to the house. There's no-one there at the moment." Actually, there was hardly anyone there, ever – Jack's housemates had a habit of spending as little time there that was possible, which suited Jack just fine. He led Jane to the house, his arm wrapped securely around her back, ready to take her in his arms if he needed to. Calm, collected Jane Grey looked around ready to collapse.

Over coffee, Jane told Jack what had happened. Everything had been going so well, and she had believed him when he said he and his wife were together in name only – Jack tried to hide the look of disbelief that Jane could fall for such an old trick – but when she had told him she was pregnant, he had gone berserk. No way could a respected family man take responsibility for a child conceived with a student. She had to get rid of it, and immediately, and pretend like the whole affair had never happened.

Except Jane didn't know that she could. She had always been pro-choice, but when faced with that choice herself, the idea of killing her baby made her shudder with revulsion. And yet, what was the alternative? To be a single mother – she knew she couldn't rely on her professor for support, and her family would be furious when they found out. The Greys were an old-fashioned family; their daughters didn't get pregnant to married professors.

At this point, Jane was sobbing incoherently. Jack took her into his arms and let her cry into his chest, his heart fuming over Jane's treatment. Sure, she hadn't exercised the best of judgement by getting involved with the guy in the first place, but still – what kind of asshole got involved with a _student_, especially a _married_ asshole, and then wiped his hands of her the second it became inconvenient.

Men like his father, he thought in disgust.

"What am I going to do?" Jane sobbed, and he was almost more alarmed at the sight of Jane Grey having fallen apart completely than he was the reasons behind it. He felt very protective of Jane. She was his best friend, and he owed her a lot – he owed her his _life_. Certainly, he didn't have many people who cared about him enough to break into his house while he was bleeding out in the bathroom.

"Marry me," he said simply, and she looked at him with shock. "Marry me," he said again, because the words had taken him by surprise almost as much as they had Jane – but once they were said, they seemed perfectly natural. "I'll take care of you. Both of you."

She gaped at him with shock. "You can't – I can't let you give up your life like that," she said.

Jack laughed ruefully. "What is it I'm giving up, exactly?" he asked. "I'm not seeing anyone – I _haven't_ seen anyone since..." he trailed off. Speaking about Gabrielle was always painful. "And I do love you." He spoke those words with truth, even if it wasn't the kind of romantic fairytale love that they talked about in songs and movies. Jane was one of the few people he trusted to have his back one hundred percent, and he did love her for it. "We'd make a good couple," he continued on, and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. After Gabrielle, he hadn't expected to find love like that again – and he still didn't. But he had an excellent relationship with Jane, and there were far worse situations to find himself in than married to an intelligent, gorgeous girl that he was inordinately fond of. Certainly, it was a far better foundation than what his dad and step-mother had started with.

Jane stared at Jack, taking his words in. They were valid points. "You're serious?" she asked. Jack nodded, and he could see that she was contemplating it. Certainly, Jack had been a far loyal and supportive friend than any boyfriend she'd ever had – including her professor. That he was proposing to her now was indicative of that. He was intelligent, compassionate, loyal, and not exactly displeasing on the eye – there was certainly worse foundations than that for marriage. "OK," she found herself saying. "Yes, Jack, I'll marry you."

"You won't regret this," Jack said, and he leant in to kiss her on the cheek. Then, realising the gravity of the situation, he leant in again to kiss her on the mouth.

In the back of her mind, Jane recalled Bianca's words about their sexual trysts – a violent animal lust, she had described it as being. But for her, kissing Jack was nothing like that. He was gentle and respectful, and not a half-bad kisser at that.

He moved into a standing position and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to his bedroom, laying her down on the bed gently, moving on top of her, touching her sensually – there was no denying he knew what he was doing, or that he cared about her deeply.

But that wasn't enough. She could sense his mind working, and she knew he wasn't thinking about her.

Reluctantly, because the love and security that Jack was offering her was a difficult thing to turn down, she pushed him off her. "This isn't going to work," she said, quite regretfully. "You're thinking about her," she said gently. Jack looked away, his face flushing with guilt, and she reached out to touch him gently. "It's OK. I know how you felt about her. It's sweet, actually. I wish someone would feel that way about me."

"Wish I could feel that way about you, too," Jack said wistfully. It was certainly easy enough to love someone like Jane – just not in the way he wanted to. What had it been about Gabrielle that he couldn't get her out of his mind? Other than the fact she had been perfect for him and he had blown it. "Will you settle for a devoted godfather?"

"Given neither of us believe in God, that suits me perfectly."

Mary Grey was born at the end of 2002, as perfect a little girl as God ever created. Jane would later say that it was a good thing her professor had washed his hands of her, because he would have had a hard time getting between Jack and Mary. He was the devoted godfather that he had promised to be, and quite frankly, she trusted him much more with Mary's welfare more than she did her own family.

Jane had finished her studies shortly before Mary's birth, and three months after, started to look for a position to do her internship. There weren't many positions to be had in Canberra and it wasn't long before she was looking for positions in Sydney and Melbourne, even Adelaide. Jack was extremely vocal about Jane taking _his goddaughter_ out of New South Wales, so Jane was relieved when she was accepted at All Saints Western General in Sydney. "It's only a few hours drive," Jane said. "If you ever saw your family, you'd know that," she teased.

Jack poked his tongue out at her. "I'll come see you as often as I can," he promised.

"You talking to me or Mary?"

He grinned. "Both."

She hugged him. Sometimes, she couldn't believe how close they had become in the last few years. Guiltily, she remembered when she and Bianca used to talk behind his back. It was a shame things couldn't have been different between them. He would have made a great husband... and a great father.

* * *

"Ben! No!" Gabrielle screamed at her two-year-old son. Ben Jaeger had a phenomenal knack for getting into trouble. He had no sense of danger. Sometimes Gabrielle thought he had no sense at all. He wasn't developing like all the books and websites said he was supposed to. He was completely disinterested in the toys that two-year-olds were supposed to be interested in. He hardly talked at all, just stared for hours at nothing with those aqua-grey eyes of his that changed colours depending on his mood. They went emerald green when he was having a tantrum, a similar colour to Jack's when he was angry.

God, why did he have to look so much like Jack?

She picked Ben up and put him back in his crib. How he managed to get out, she had no idea. But then, she had come across plenty of farm dogs in her life that were thick as two short planks but still had a phenomenal knack of escaping confinement.

She wondered what she had done wrong. Ben was an angry, uncooperative child who her GP said wasn't developing properly. What did that mean? Was he slow? Autistic? She knew she should take him to Sydney or Melbourne and get him checked by a specialist, but she was afraid of what the results might be.

Ben started to scream at his confinement and Russel came in, alerted by his grandson's crying. He was as stumped as Gabrielle was. The child carried on constantly, and showed no interest in the things other children his age did. Russel had to wonder if Ben was retarded. Often, the only thing to do was let Ben cry himself to sleep – in the meantime, keeping everyone else in the house awake. He wasn't about to admit it to Gabrielle, but he was finding it weary.

He had insisted that Gabrielle look to the future and get her degree. After all, Ben Senior would inherit the farm, and Gabrielle needed something to fall back on – Russel didn't want to see her at the mercy of welfare, or Ben's charity. Not that Ben wouldn't support her for as long as she needed, but Russel still didn't want that for his little girl. So he took care of Ben during the semesters, and while he considered it a fair trade for Gabrielle to get her qualifications, taking care of a small child who was developmentally delayed and uncooperative was hardly a dream come true.

Guiltily, he remembered the half a dozen letters and postcards that he had intercepted from Jack, postmarked from around the country as well as New Zealand and Indonesia. The boy had certainly gotten around while Gabrielle was having his son. While Russel didn't for one second regret not passing on his correspondence – no doubt Jack had only meant it when he'd thought he had a girlfriend to gain, not a son – it was painful watching Gabrielle struggle as a single mother. She did the best she could, far better than most women would have done given what a troublesome child Ben was, but that didn't make her any less a single parent.

He watched his daughter intently. _Poor girl_, he thought. She was twenty, and looked five years older – there was an aged, sad look in her eyes that came from struggling with something that a twenty-year-old shouldn't have to deal with alone.

* * *

Peter Frost was a junior Registrar in the surgical department of Sacred Heart in Sydney. Highly ambitious, Bianca had no doubt that he would go far – that they would _both_ go far. They married at the end of 2002, shortly after hearing about the birth of Mary Grey. Her body had pulsed with envy when she heard about it. Thanks to Jack – she had convinced herself that _he_ had given _her_ syphilis, not the other way around – she couldn't have children. Not that she had ever thought about it, but she had always expected the option to be there.

And now it wasn't. Because of Jack. Who had still managed to give Jane Grey a baby. A gorgeous little girl, from what she heard. The type of gorgeous little girl that _she_ would never have. Because of Jack.

She hated them both. And she hated that country nitwit that he had been so in love with that he had used and discarded her, too. She hated them all, and if she ever met them again...


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_2005_

Terri Sullivan knocked on the door, and kept knocking. "Jack!" she called through the door. "I know you're home, your car's in the drive." Not that she really blamed him for not wanting to see her. The filthy look he had given her early today said plenty about his mood. He had taken Charlotte's miscarriage hard and, misplaced or not, had included her in his all-encompassing anger at the world. "Jack..." she called again, wondering if maybe he _was_ actually out. Jane Grey might have picked him up.

On second thought, Jack was probably in no mood to spend time with his goddaughter right now. Especially since said goddaughter was an adorable little blond, like what his own daughter would have been, assuming she would have inherited Charlotte's looks.

Finally, she heard footsteps on the other side of the door and the sound of the lock mechanism disengaging. "Go away," Jack said when he opened the door.

Terri pushed past him, trying to ignore that he reeked of vodka. She was reminded of her father, an alcoholic who routinely hit her mother when he was angry, and told herself that Jack loved her too much to lash out at her – at least not physically. "You shouldn't be drinking alone," she said. "Or this early."

"Don't be so uptight. I'm not working tomorrow." Jack stressed the word _uptight_ in a sneering way that made Terri wonder if he'd made fun of her conservative values behind her back while claiming to love her to her face, and now that he had no hope of reconciliation, he saw no point in pretending.

"What, and you don't see anything wrong with drinking by yourself at three o'clock in the afternoon?" Terri asked. "Jack, I know you're hurting – "

"You have no fucking idea what I'm feeling!" he yelled at her, and she jumped back in fright. "You _never fucking gave a shit_ about what I was feeling!"

Terri had known Jack had been angry about the imbalance of their feelings for one another – he had been, or at least claimed to have been, deeply in love with her, while she had been fond of him but hardly about to embark in a second marriage – but she'd had no idea he was _that_ angry. But then – he wasn't angry about her and their relationship, he was angry about Charlotte's miscarriage, and angry that no-one seemed to care. Terri had already taken Jessica to task for expression of the opinion that Jack must be pleased to have dodged a bullet; she could only imagine how he would have felt if he'd overheard her making such a comment.

"Sit down," she directed him. "You look like you won't be steady on your feet for much longer. I'll even overlook the fact you smell like a distillery if you sit down before you fall down and break something."

Reluctantly – because he knew Terri well enough to know that she would hound him until he sat – Jack let her into the house and sat down. Terri couldn't help but make a face when she saw the state of his place. There were empty bottles of alcohol – beer and vodka – and pizza boxes and microwave dinners everywhere. He was normally so neat. Not to mention ate pretty well. It was like something inside him had switched off and he'd stopped caring. He poured himself a straight vodka and pushed the bottle towards her. "Want one?" he asked snidely, because he knew she didn't drink anything stronger than wine.

"Are you always this bitchy?" she asked him, willing to overlook a _lot_ of bad behaviour from him, given the circumstances.

"My best mate's a trust-fund princess named after an actual queen, I had a good mentor," Jack retorted.

"There was never a Queen Jane, Jack."

Terri was quite impressed that he had the co-ordination to roll his eyes. "She was a descendant of Henry the Seventh and queen for eight days before _your_ Queen Mary had her beheaded," he said, and Terri neither doubted that he was right or the fact that he _did_ make fun of her conservative values behind her back. Only someone as anti-religion as Jack was would think to lump all Catholics in with the sixteenth-century monarch.

"Fine. It really doesn't matter. Jack, I'm concerned about you."

"You'd be the only one, then."

"Maybe I wouldn't be if you didn't carry on like it doesn't mean anything to you. Cate was asking about you. She didn't want to ask you herself because she was afraid you'd bite her head off. And I can't say I blame her, given so far you've sworn at me and insulted my faith, _and_ you claimed to love me."

"I did love you," Jack said in a flat tone that made Terri think she preferred it when he was making snarky comments about religion. "You didn't love me, though."

"No – but I did care about you a lot. I still do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Jack, you can't do this to yourself. You can't bottle your feelings up like this. Believe me, I know how it can be to lose a child. When I miscarried, everyone was there for me, and no-one was there for Mitch." Idly she realised that Jack was _deep_ in his grief, because the mention of Mitch's name could usually turn those chameleon eyes of his to the emerald green they went when he was angry; now there was no reaction. "If you don't want to talk to me, I understand, but you should talk to _someone_."

"I'm being punished," he said flatly. "This is Karma coming around to bite me on the ass."

"You don't believe in spiritual powers." Jack shrugged, and Terri understood that sometimes people could convince themselves of a lot when things went wrong in life – like they were being punished and Karma was coming around to bite them on the ass. "And you're not being punished, Jack."

"Yes, I am. I've been a shitty person." Jack had been spending most of his free time drinking as much as he could and still be fit to work the next day – or, in this case, the day after – and the more he drank, the more his Karmic justice theory made sense. "I've done some lousy things. I've used people – I had this awesome girlfriend and I cheated on her –"

"Jack, you didn't cheat on me," Terri said. Not technically, at least; they _had_ been broken up at the time he had slept with Charlotte. It was why he had slept with Charlotte; they had both been dumped that day.

Jack sniffled. "I wasn't talking about you."

Terri cocked her head. Jack rarely talked about his life before All Saints, but nonetheless, it came as a surprise that he had been deeply in love with someone else. "Not – " she started to ask.

"Jane? No. Jane's like a sister to me now, and anyway, she watched me go to pieces after – " Jack stopped and shuddered, feeling a knot work itself in his throat. Damn, why couldn't he think about her without wanting to cry?

Jack found himself telling Terri about everything – well, mostly everything. He left out being sexually abused, and trying to kill himself, but told her about Gabrielle and cheating on her, even how his friendship with Jane was founded on her friend's attempt to break them up. "It was this totally random event, me meeting her, but she was _so _perfect for me, and I was too much of a shit to appreciate her."

"You ever try getting in touch with her?"

"Of course I fucking tried. Tried for two years, wrote whenever I changed contact details. I never heard from her. Can't say I blame her – she deserves better than me."

"I don't think that's true, Jack."

"You didn't see the look on her face when – " Jack closed his eyes, remembering. He would remember, for as long as he lived, the look on Gabrielle's face when she had caught him with Bianca. Certainly, actually catching a person in the act was far worse than simply _knowing_ that they'd cheated. "I never wanted to be like my dad. I never wanted to put someone through what he put my step-mother through."

Terri was surprised to see this side of Jack – a man deeply remorseful for hurting someone through one slip-up (well, OK, one that she knew of, but even two indiscretions hardly made for a compulsive philanderer – something Terri had realised when Jack had told her about him and Charlotte. He had never understood that she wasn't upset about the sex, she just didn't see a future for them when he had something so big to commit to for the next ten-plus years.) Suddenly, she was dying of curiosity to know more about this woman that had been on his conscience for over five years now. "Do you have a picture of her?" she asked. Jack started to get up and Terri shooed him down. "I'll get it, just tell me where it is."

"Top drawer of my dresser, under a blue folder," he said.

Terri found it easy enough. "She's – " she started to say, and Jack made a face and cut her off.

"I know she wasn't exactly a knockout," he said, still remembering how nasty Bianca had been about her looks. God, he wished he had smacked that woman in the mouth when he'd had the chance.

"I was going to say clearly in love," Terri said, sitting back down next to love. "You look... _young_," she said.

He sniffled. "I was nineteen there. I'm only twenty-five now."

_Of course you are_. Terri had always known that, but after she had gotten to know Jack beneath the bluster and cockiness and I'm-much-better-in-bed-than-beside-one crap, he had seemed a lot older than he was. Certainly older than twenty-five. And the more she got to know him, the more she realised just how much a neglected childhood had forced him to become emotionally and financially dependant far sooner than any child should be expected to. But here, he looked nineteen, and Terri realised that Gabrielle had brought that out in him. For a few months, Jack had looked like a teenager in love. No wonder he had taken her leaving him so badly; he had probably never been that happy in his life. "I'm sorry," she said.

He was crying now, crying for so many things that he had lost – most of which Terri didn't know about. "It's only what I deserve," he sobbed.

"That's not true," she said, and she eased him into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head in her lap like a distraught little boy – which Terri suspected was close to the truth. He had never had the opportunity to just be a boy and now – "It's not true," she repeated, not knowing what else she could say to him. For sure, the Jack Quade she was seeing now was a far cry from the Jack Quade who had doggedly pursued her.

Gabrielle had had a less than stellar date with Steve Taylor. He was the first man she had dated since Jack, and he was definitely lacking in the younger man's intelligence, sophistication and knack of making her feel special.

But then, Jack had seduced her, cheated on her, gotten her pregnant and disappeared, so maybe Gabrielle shouldn't be comparing Jack so favourably.

She had driven, because Steve was the first to admit that he shouldn't drive after a night out. It had been dinner at the main pub, followed by drinks – lots of them for Steve, Gabrielle had nursed two over the night – before going back to Steve's place. It wasn't like there was much alternative, given her dad, brother and son were at hers.

Steve had helped himself to a nightcap, and then gone straight for the jugular, kissing her hard and briefly before going for her breasts, pushing her towards the couch, lifting up her skirt as he went, pulling down her underwear, thrusting inside her with no more foreplay seconds after he had gotten her onto the couch. He demonstrated no interest in whether she was aroused enough – but then, he had a small penis – or maybe it was just small compared to Jack's – so maybe he had never had to demonstrate an interest in that.

Then again, Steve had a tendency to date women a fair bit younger than him – he was ten years older than Gabrielle – so maybe he had just never come across one that wasn't too intimidated to say something. Whatever it was, it was a nothing experience for Gabrielle. Steve was too small for it to be painful, but he had none of the talent in the bedroom that Jack had, and he didn't seem to expect a response from her. She wondered if he just saw her as a receiver for his lust.

Not that it mattered anymore. Not many men were keen on her – a twenty-two-year-old Plain Jane with a four-year-old son – that Steve merely being interested in her was something. After all, beggars couldn't be choosers.

He pumped her with absolutely no finesse or interest in her sexual pleasure, and finished quickly. "That was great," he said, getting off her and going to get another drink. Gabrielle had never been comfortable around drinkers, not since she had seen what a difference it made to Jack, but it wasn't like she had loads of better options.

After a few hours, Steve was horny again, and Gabrielle submitted to his desires. She was almost glad to go. "You aren't spending the night?" he asked. He liked waking up in the middle of the night knowing that he had a warm body to be the receptacle of his lust. And Gabrielle didn't exactly have men lining up to date her, so she was desperate and not likely to ask much from him – something that suited Steve just fine.

"I don't like leaving Ben overnight."

Steve frowned. He didn't like thinking about the fact Gabrielle had a two-year-old son. He liked his women to be a little less... _used_. But so long as she didn't bring the brat over... He shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "We'll do this again, yeah?"

"Sure."

She got home, where one of her best mates, Ashley Jones, was waiting for her. "How was it?" she asked excitedly. Gabrielle _never_ dated. She could kind of see why – she was plain, and had a two-year-old kid to boot, which was _such_ a turn-off. But she considered herself too tactful to say that to her face.

"Fine," Gabrielle said.

"Just fine? He's older, good-looking, a _doctor_," Ashley gushed.

_Jack was going to be a doctor_, Gabrielle thought. She wished she could stop thinking about him – but how could she, when she was reminded of him every time she looked at her son? "It went fine," she said. "_You_ date him if you think he's so special."

Which, she found out shortly afterwards, was exactly what Ashley did. The drinking and the bad sex and the otherwise complete lack of interest in her, Gabrielle could tolerate, because, after all, she didn't have any better option. But cheating she couldn't – especially when he had cheated on her with someone prettier than her.

It didn't break her heart nearly as much as it had when she had found out about Jack and Bianca – maybe because she hadn't been subject to the humiliation of actually _seeing_ Steve sticking it to Ashley – but Gabrielle knew that it was because she hadn't been in love with Steve. She couldn't see herself ever being in love with anyone again, not after Jack had used and betrayed her the way he had.

She was through with men. Her main priority now was her career. She wanted to be able to provide for Ben – especially since he didn't seem very bright. He had been diagnosed with ADHD, and was heavily medicated to keep him from running off and throwing tantrums all the time. Gabrielle didn't know what was worse, the running off and tantrums or the vacant look in his eyes when he was on the medication. But at least everyone in the house got some sleep now.

She needed to leave Widgee, she knew, and go to a major city – Canberra, Sydney, Melbourne, even Adelaide. She wanted a management position, and there was more scope for that – and the better pay and hours that went along with such positions – in a big city. And hell, maybe people wouldn't be so damn judgmental in a big city.

She looked at Ben again. He was sleeping, like he did a lot when he was on the medication. He looked peaceful when he was sleeping – not vacant, and not angry. She wished he could always be like this. She wished he could be a normal little boy.

3


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_2006_

"I need to run some errands for my landlady, I'll be an hour or so. You can come with me or you can stay at my place, whatever works for you."

Deanna couldn't believe that Jack was offering her free run of his house while he was out. Like she was stupid enough to turn _that_ down. "If it's all the same to you, I'll stay at yours," she said sweetly. "I have some work to do."

He let her into his duplex. "Just make sure you have it done by the time I get back," he said, and kissed her deeply. Deanna wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He was a very tactile man, she had discovered after just a few kisses, and seemed poised to forget his errands to kiss her in the doorway.

She pushed him away playfully; she wanted him to go so she could snoop. "Go so you can come back," she said. She allowed him to kiss her once more before he left. "Thought he'd never go," she said to the empty house after she heard Jack's car reverse down the drive. Not that kissing Jack was exactly a hardship. His tongue, his hands, the feel of the muscles in his chest against hers. She couldn't wait to experience him in bed – something told her that he was nothing like the selfish, entitled surgeons that she usually dated. But until then...

He kept his fridge remarkably well-stocked, given he was a single man who worked ridiculous hours – she had been expected microwave dinners and a box full of takeaway menus. A pleasant surprise – it meant lots of home-cooked meals. She found nothing of interest in the bathroom cabinet except a bottle of diazepam, which he had a prescription for.

The bookshelf in the living room/entertainment area was full of authors she'd never heard of. But then, she tended to restrict her reading to magazines – or things she shouldn't be reading. Tolstoy she had heard of. And it was in German, too, or whatever language the writer had spoken. Well, showed he was smart.

She hit pay dirt in his bedroom. She took immediate interest in the photo on his dresser – she recognised Jane Grey, one of the hospital's paediatricians. It was clear from the photo that Jack was very fond of both Jane and her daughter, whatever her name was. Deanna wondered what the deal was between those two. There had certainly been plenty of gossip about their closeness, and there were hints that he was the girl's father. But she would feign ignorance and ask Jack about that later.

But of course she knew the best information was never on display, and she started going through Jack's dresser after she couldn't find a safe or locked box. She rifled through the folders she found in there, with one of them being his financial records. She settled down on the bed to read them. He was careful with money, not being a huge spender and definitely not being one to go into a lot of debt for fancy cars and other luxuries (God, she could certainly attest to the cheapness of his car – seriously, it was _embarrassing_ for a surgeon to be driving around with such a piece of shit) and had made a few good investments. He was well-off for his age, even for a surgeon his age. Deanna smiled at that. She could definitely see this thing with Jack going long-term.

Digging deeper, she found another photo frame, which surprised her. Photos tended not to be stashed in dresser drawers underneath financial records, at least not ones that you had taken the care to put in a frame.

It would be about five years old, Deanna guessed – she put Jack's age at nineteen or twenty, and that looked like Lake Burley-Griffin in the distance, which would put Jack in his AUMEL years. It was probably where he met Jane Grey – but she was much more interested in the girl in this picture.

She eased it out of its frame and flipped it on the back. _Gabby and I, Lake BG. Jan 2000_. Gabby – short for Gabrielle or Gabriella, Deanna figured. Such a pretty, feminine name for such a plain-looking girl. At first, Deanna figured she had to have been great in the sack that Jack was holding onto a photo six years later, but then she took a closer look at the picture. Gabby was looking at Jack like she adored him, and it was clear Jack adored that himself.

Deanna took note of that. If Jack wanted to be adored – well, he wouldn't be a hard man to adore; smart, good-looking, going places. There was something else in Gabby's expression – a passiveness, subdued, admiring, looking to him to set the pace and guide her. What he wanted was what she wanted. That was very valuable information. If Jack wanted to set the pace, that was fine by her.

Still, it concerned her that Jack had this photo stashed away like this – in close enough proximity that he could look at it whenever he wanted to, but stashed away so no-one else could question him. That was worrying; Deanna didn't want to play second fiddle to some lost love. What had happened? Had she left him? Had she _died_?

Well, that wasn't immediately important; what _was_ was being exactly the woman Jack wanted.

When he got home, she was calmly waiting for him on the couch, working through her rosters as if she'd been doing them for over an hour and not ten minutes. "Hard at work?" he teased her.

"Not anymore. Need a hand?"

"No, uh, I'm fine." He put away whatever he'd picked up and came back to the couch. "I hope you weren't too bored," he said, easing himself next to her a fraction close than he needed to be, his arm brushing slightly against her. Now that she wasn't upset, she revelled even more in how good he looked – how she could see the strength of his arms where they emerged from his shirt, how his eyes were a blue-grey colour right now. She _wanted_ him to come onto her – she'd known plenty of men who would have been all over by now, flat on her back and pinned underneath them on the couch – but she knew she had to wait until Jack felt ready.

"I was fine. Got some stuff done. I missed you, though."

"I was only gone an hour."

God, could he _be_ more obtuse? Instead, she just smiled shyly until he got the point, and leaned in to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, subtly encouraging him to push her down onto the couch, which he did, eventually. He was so damn respectful, keeping his hands on her waist, over her shirt, that she stifled the urge to yell at him to be a damn man. Whatever happened to his reputation as a skirt-chaser? When he buried his head in his neck, she made a face and gritted her teeth. Clearly, he didn't want to rush into things and have her regret it. Which was a lovely sentiment, but it meant it was going to take a good portion of what was left of the day to get him into bed – if she managed it at all – through a series of subtle encouragements. Could she just _tell_ him she wanted to sleep with him? No, that might scare him off, or worse, make him think she was a slut. That Gabby girl had clearly had limited sexual experience and it was just as clear that it was what he liked. Instead, she slowly turned him on and made it clear that _she_ was turned on until they were thrashing around in his bed and he was convinced that he had swept her off her feet; and just as convinced that he had brought something out in her from the way she carried on.

"Wow," he said in awe after it was over, reluctantly withdrawing so he could take off the condom. He was already thinking of a point in their relationship when he wouldn't have to use one.

"Yeah," she agreed, and turned on her side so Jack could spoon her, wriggling comfortable against his body. She certainly couldn't complain about his level of fitness, and hoped she hadn't set off any warning bells about how athletic she was herself. She murmured in appreciation when Jack stroked her hair and ran his mouth over her neck and shoulders, making it apparent that all he wanted to do was lie there and passively accept his affection. She could totally get used to this kind of treatment. _And he supplies his own condoms, too_, Deanna thought.

She manoeuvred herself so she could 'catch a glimpse' of the photo on Jack's dresser, and asked about it. "That's Jane Grey. _Doctor_ Jane Grey. She's a paediatrician upstairs." _Everything_ was 'upstairs' for the ED. "She's actually the reason I came to All Saints."

"Yeah?"

"She's my best mate. I owe her a lot. And we work well together. And I like being close to my god-daughter." He picked up the photo. "Her name's Mary."

"You sound envious," Deanna said. Like it took a lot of insight to figure _that_ out.

"A little. I mean, her dad's a jerk who doesn't deserve her, and who _wouldn't_ want a daughter like that?"

Deanna was glad her face was turned from Jack. She would hate for him to see the look on her face. Like hell was she interested in kids. Messy, smelly things that cried a lot and generally wrecking your life. She was glad Jack didn't have any.

"You look happy. You get laid?" Vincent asked Jack crassly the next day.

Jack shot Vincent a filthy look. "None of your goddamn business."

"I'll take that as a yes." He was dying to know who it was, but knew he would have to wait until Jack slipped up and fessed up by accident.

Later that day a patient threw up all over Jack, so he had to shower and change and Vincent got a good look at the scratch marks running down his back. He whistled appreciatively. Charlotte had been able to do the same thing; for a doctor, she managed to keep her nails quite long and sharp. "Shut up," Jack said irritably. "I wasn't really paying attention to what Deanna was doing until after she'd done it."

Vincent's eyes went wide with surprise; he knew Jack had a somewhat questionable taste in women, but _Deanna Richardson_? As in, _Terri's_ replacement? "She's not as cold as she seems," Jack said, just as irritably. He wasn't in the mood to talk about his private life, especially to someone who wasn't a big fan of Deanna.

"I'm sure she wasn't, not last night."

Jack sent him another filthy look. Vincent had no idea of the kind of woman Deanna was when she wasn't having to be super professional and controlled; it was why he had fallen for her in that moment, when she had come across her crying over her patient and general unpopularity. He was falling for her, and he saw a future for them, he didn't want that criticised or the butt of crassness. "Shut up, Vincent. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Doctor Grey, what are you doing here?" Charlotte asked. They had no need to have a paediatrician in the ED today, thankfully – there was nothing quite as distressing as a child in trauma.

"Finding stuff to do so I don't have to go out with Jack and Deanna," Jane admitted.

"You don't like her either?" Charlotte asked. Ever since it had come out that Deanna had made a – not doubt bogus – sexual harassment accusation against Frank, and that she was dating Jack who was defending her, she had been hugely unpopular, and Jack wasn't exactly the ED's golden boy right now for enabling her. Mind you, Charlotte thought, it was _exactly _like Jack to fall for someone and doggedly stick by them.

Jane shook her head. "I don't think she's right for him. She's... insincere and has ambitions. Actually reminds me of someone Jack and I used to know." She paused, thinking. "Funny thing is, this act she's putting on – it reminds me of someone else we used to know, an ex-girlfriend of his."

"Really?" Charlotte's interest was piqued.

"Gabrielle was... sweet. Sincere. Used to look at him like he was God. And she didn't give a shit that he was good-looking, or studying medicine... just loved him for himself, and I think he really needed that. Deanna reminds me of some kind of caricature of that."

"Really? What happened?"

Jane realised she had said too much. "It's not my place to say," she said.

"So he cheated on her, then," Charlotte said. If Jack had never mentioned this Gabrielle girl before, it had to be because he had done something that he was ashamed of... and the first thing that came to mind was that he had cheated on her.

Jane gave her best poker face – which was pretty miserable, because being around kids all day, she was a terrible liar; they were too good at ferreting out the truth. "It really isn't to my place to say," she repeated, and left Charlotte – and Vincent – to gossip amongst themselves.

"This Gabrielle must have meant a lot to him, if Jack's dating someone 'cos she reminds him of her. I wonder if that's just co-incidence or if Deanna planned it that way."

"Oh, come on, Char, Deanna can be underhanded, but how the hell is she going to find out about this – what did you call her? Gabrielle? – if we've never heard about her before. I mean, if he's never mentioned anything to _you_, why would he have said anything to Deanna?"

"Maybe she found out for herself." Vincent rolled his eyes at that. Deanna could be underhanded, but not _that_ underhanded.

Jack was still fuming with indignation from the rumour mill Deanna was shredding what was left of his reputation in when he caught up with Jane. At least Mary had a knack of cheering him up just by being her adorable, three-and-a-half-year-old self. "I can't believe she said all that crap about me!" he said. "About _us_." Deanna had held court at Cougars for two weeks until Vincent had threatened to wring her neck, telling anyone who would listen that Jack was a lousy boyfriend unable to let go of the past. She had made strong insinuations that Mary was his daughter. Not that he _minded_ taking the credit for such a gorgeous, precocious girl, but it still made him fume that Deanna would say something she knew was untrue after he'd broken up with her.

He should have listened to what everyone was saying about her.

He should have been wise to the fact she wasn't the sweet, shy girl that he had fallen in love with.

"People say you're Mary's dad all the time," Jane pointed out. Kind of a hazard of being a doting godfather, to the point he had a booster seat installed in his care because it was too much fussing to switch with Jane all the time. Combined with their closeness, their history and the fact the 'father' section on Mary's birth certificate was blank, well, you couldn't really blame people for saying something like that.

"Yeah... but she _knew_ I wasn't." He tilted his head back against the chair. "God, what _is_ it with me and women? How hard can it possibly be to find someone I care about – and who cares about me? Who I'm attracted to," she added, which brought a smile to Jane's face, because he had excellent, close relationships with her, Charlotte and Rebecca – none of whom were really girlfriend material.

"It will come," she said. "A guy like you? Good looking, intelligent, financially secure." Jack ticked Jack's attributes off on her fingers.

Jack made a face. "I have plenty of women who want me for _those_ reasons," he said, as if there weren't in themselves good attributes. "But the only woman I thought ever wanted me for myself..." Jack trailed off and shrugged, momentarily lost in the past. "I don't understand why I can't forget her," he admitted.

"You've never been with someone who made you happy like that," Jane pointed out logically. "It makes it harder to get over." Privately, she thought Jack had held onto the memory of his relationship with Gabrielle far longer than was healthy, but of all the flaws for a person to have, that ranked pretty low.

"I guess so," Jack said. Mary distracted him, and it struck Jane not for the first time just how good he was with her. It was such a shame Charlotte had miscarried; the man was born to be a father.

Gabrielle was pouring through the employment ads, and the position that kept coming back to her was the NUM for the All Saints Western General ED in Sydney. It had been advertised for weeks, which was unusual for such a plum position. She wondered what was wrong with it, and then reminded herself that it couldn't be any worse that running an understaffed country clinic. Busier, maybe, but no worse.

"You sure you want to go that far?" Russel asked her doubtfully.

"It's hardly any further than Canberra, dad," Gabrielle protested.

"Yeah, and look how well _that_ turned out for you."

Gabrielle let it go. Her dad had made no secret of the fact he wanted her to stay in Widgee and manage the clinic, like she had been doing the past two years. But she wanted more than that. She wanted a position like the one that as going at All Saints. "If I get a position like that, it can take me places – more money, better hours," she said. "I can't stay here all my life."

"Why not?"

Gabrielle didn't know how to explain in a way that would make her father understand. She knew he would rather she stay in Widgee, with him and Ben. Which was precisely why she _didn't _want to stay; she didn't want to live off her family her whole life, even if she was working now and had her own income. That, and she didn't want to see Steve Taylor again. She supposed she shouldn't have expected anything more of him, but still – she wanted out of Widgee and a job like this one was exactly what she was looking for.

"You don't think you might run into _him_?" Russel asked.

Gabrielle knew he was talking about Jack. "There's five million people in Sydney, dad, and I don't even know if he ended up there."

_Russel_ knew that he had ended up there. The last letter that had arrived from Jack, about two years ago, was to say that he had started his Residency at All Saints; as far as Russel knew, the guy was still there. But of course he couldn't admit to that without admitting to the fact he had been intercepting Gabrielle's mail.

So with apprehensions he let Gabrielle go. After all, hospitals like All Saints were like small cities within themselves, they might never run into each other.

One could only hope.

3


	9. Chapter 9

Jack yawned. His night shift was almost over, and he was relieved at that. He was looking forward to going home and getting some sleep before he look Mary to the zoo like he had promised.

"You look ready to clear out," Dan said. "Got a hot date with a certain blond?"

Jack poked his tongue out at Dan. Dan found his devotion to Mary hilarious. Everyone in the ED, surgical and paediatrics department knew how close he was to Jane and Mary, but Dan hadn't realised just how close until he had come home one day to find Jack spending the afternoon with the precocious three-year-old and a DVD of _A Little Princess_ and a refusal to accept that Mary was too young to appreciate the movie and should be watching DVDs of _The Wiggles_ instead. "I'm going to remember all this when you become a dad," he said.

"That's my point, Jack, you're _not_ her dad," Dan said, dying to be the one who got Jack to fess up to exactly the extent of his relationship with Jane – ie, that they had been more than just friends.

Jack yawned again. "Whatever." He noticed Dan looked particularly chipper. "You get your new NUM today, don't you?" he asked.

"Yep," Dan said, grinning and lighting up like a Christmas tree. Dan had _hated_ being acting NUM, especially for a HoD like Frank. He had been forced to step into the position after Nelson Curtis had had a breakdown, and had been beginning to despair that they would ever get a replacement for him. But she was arriving today, and as far as Dan was concerned, it should have happened last week.

"Good for you. Just don't have a party until after twelve. I need to get some rest."

He was chasing up Charlotte to give her some paperwork when he thought he heard a voice he never expected to hear again. His ears pricked up, thinking that his mind was playing tricks on him; he had thought so much about Gabrielle in the last six years that his mind had finally cracked and he was hallucinating.

No, there she was. Older – but she would be – he mind worked quickly – twenty-three or -four now, and it wasn't unusual for a person to fill out a lot between seventeen and twenty-four. Her blond hair meticulously pinned up – he had always hated it when she had her hair up. In a nurse's uniform, one of the administration ones. He felt his heart stop for a second, and the air in his lungs dry out. Was this an extension of his hallucination? "Dan," he whispered hoarsely, "do you see – "

Dan looked in the direction Jack was gesturing in, and brightened when he saw a professional-looking young woman in one of the hospital's administration nursing uniforms. "That would be her," he said. "Thankgod. I can't _wait_ to give her the rosters."

For a few seconds, Jack just stared at her. She looked older than twenty-four. Sadder. He wondered if he had done that to her. He struggled to find the right words to say to her – what was he supposed to say after all this time, after she had made it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him? "Gabrielle," he finally choked out.

He was answered with a styrofoam cup full of murky brown coffee, the kind that can only come from hospital cafeterias. Gabrielle had recognised Jack before he had recognised her – or at least had reacted quicker than he had. She followed the coffee up with a strike across his face that was impressive enough to send him staggering back despite his quick reflexes; it was only those reflexes that prevented him from ending up on his ass.

She had walked off before he could compose himself well enough to respond.

"What," Dan asked, torn between avid curiosity and shock, "the _fuck_ was that about?"

"Something I'd also like to know," Frank said, coming up behind Dan. "Well?" he asked pointedly, staring at Jack until Jack squirmed uncomfortably.

"No idea," Jack said, and he thrust the paperwork into Charlotte's hands – who was just as surprised at Frank, Dan and everyone else in the ED that their new NUM, who, as far as everyone knew had no connection with Jack (it was certainly unlikely for a city boy like Jack and a country girl like Gabrielle to have crossed paths) had just thrown coffee in his face and then slapped him. He bolted before anyone could stop him, knowing full well that in doing so, he was leaving Gabrielle to face the inquiry.

Well, she shouldn't have thrown coffee in his face. And cheap coffee, too. He was going to have the taste in his mouth for hours now.

* * *

"You care to tell me what that was about?" Charlotte asked as gently as she could. Gabrielle ignored her and continued putting her things in her locker. _Of all the hospitals in the country!_ She thought. Oh, she had known he was a Sydney boy, but she had also gotten the impression that he didn't have a lot to go back to. Why hadn't he stayed in Canberra? "Look," Charlotte continued patiently when her question was met with silence. "You can talk to me or you can talk to Frank. _Or_ I can run up to paediatrics and see if Doctor Grey knows anything."

Gabrielle stopped in the middle of putting a book in her locker. "Doctor Grey?" she asked dumbly. "_Jane Grey_ works here?"

Charlotte nodded. "The reason Jack does, I think. Do you know her?" Gabrielle didn't reply to that, and Charlotte thought quickly. If Gabrielle knew both Jack and Jane, then chances were, she had met them when they had been at university together. She remembered Jane mentioning a Gabrielle a few months ago, when she had been expressing her dislike of Deanna Richardson, and things clicked into place. "You guys used to go out, didn't you?" he asked. "He cheated on you." Gabrielle's eyes flashed angrily at the invasion of her privacy. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Jane just said a few things – actually it was mostly about Jack's ex, no-one liked her – and I put a few more things together."

"I don't want to talk about it," Gabrielle said shortly.

"You're going to have to. You can't just assault a doctor without there being consequences – not to mention you threw coffee in his face in front of the whole ED. People will talk. In fact, I'd say they're talking already." Charlotte was willing to bet money on the fact that Cate and Dan were right now talking about the incident.

Charlotte was right. Not only could Gabrielle feel the heat of the gossip and inquisitive stares on her, but in the afternoon she got a call up to admin to explain her actions. "It was personal and I overreacted to see him again," was all she would say.

"You're lucky Doctor Quade's already been up here defending you," Alison Newell said disapprovingly. She liked Jack, because Jack knew how to get on with administration, and hated to see the already-precarious dynamic the ED had with administration disintegrate further because of this development. "Said he deserved it and it wouldn't happen again."

Gabrielle blanched at that. She didn't know whether to be grateful or resentful that Jack had gone in to bat for her. She supposed she _should_ be grateful. It was highly unprofessional to throw coffee in his face and slap him, and he was so much higher up on the food chain than she was – admin would have no qualms about doing away with her if they thought there would be trouble between her and Jack. "It won't," she said.

* * *

Alison looked at her paperwork. "I take it you were involved?" she asked. It was a statement, not a question. She looked at the paperwork again and asked, "Consider this an unofficial warning," she said. "You can go." Gabrielle scurried out of the office like a frightened mouse.

Oh, God, of all the hospitals in the country, why had she managed to choose the one that _Jack_ worked at? Her first thought was to quit, but she knew she wouldn't get a job this good anywhere else; she was already beginning to understand that the reason the job had gone begging was because Frank Campion was a somewhat difficult HoD to get along with. Brilliant, but difficult. Gabrielle thought she could handle that.

What she wasn't sure she could handle was working with the man who had taken her virginity, broken her heart and disappeared when she had tried to contact him about his son. The father of her son, a son that he had no idea existed.

Well, that scratched out using the hospital's crèche. It would be more expensive to get private daycare – especially with Ben's special needs – but she couldn't bring him to the hospital. If it had taken her a few minutes to run into Jack, how long would it take him to run into Ben?

She got back to the ED and went straight for the personnel files on the computer. "After this?" Charlotte asked, holding out a piece of paper, a smirk on her face because she knew _exactly_ what Gabrielle was up to. "He's living with Dan these days so make sure he doesn't overhear you – he and Cate have been gossiping all day. It was Cate who thought to pull up both your personnel files and cross-references when you would have been in the same place together. I can't see Jack dating a Catholic schoolgirl, actually. He uses these high school books he got his hands on to teach Mary Grey about propaganda. He's a terrific dad, but he has some funny ideas about education, and Jane just encourages him." Charlotte made an affectionate clucking sound with her tongue that suggested she would be quite happy for Jack to demonstrate such funny ideas about education with any children of _her_.

"I'm sorry – Jack's a dad?" Gabrielle asked, shocked. _Five years, two kids_, she thought. _Mary Grey_. Jane Grey's daughter, no doubt. Why didn't _that_ surprise her?

Charlotte laughed. "Not exactly. He's Mary's godfather – as much as a godfather as such a raving atheist can be. But he and Jane go way back – well, you should know, if you knew them at uni," Charlotte said.

"They weren't that close when I knew Jack."

There was a bitterness in Gabrielle's voice that made Charlotte's ears prick up. "I'm sorry, was Jane – "

"No. Friend of Jane's." Charlotte figured from the abrupt tone in Gabrielle's voice that it wasn't a topic she cared to pursue.

She went to see Jack once her shift was over – a shift full of agonising stares and whispers. She knew if she just rode it out – after all, she had largely gotten Widgee to accept Ben, and that was her having a son out of wedlock to an unknown father when she had been eighteen, so making the staff of an urban hospital lose interest in the fact she had a history with one of its surgeons should be a piece of cake in comparison – she would be OK, but that was cold comfort when she was being talked about _now_.

"Hi," Jack said awkwardly when he saw her. "I figured you'd come. Come in." He opened the door to let her in, and Gabrielle stepped inside. She couldn't help but think that this was definitely Dan's place – a lot of clutter, gaming paraphernalia everywhere. Jack, she remembered, had been super-tidy. "Dan!" Jack yelled, and her subordinate Daniel Goldman came trotting out of the kitchen. "Go amuse yourself for... at least an hour," he said.

"I'll be quiet," Dan said in a tone that reminded Gabrielle of her brother pleading his case to sit at the adult's table. Jack shot his a disbelieving glare, and Dan skedaddled.

"He's a chronic gossip," Jack said. "He'll probably be in his room with a listening device in one hand and his mobile on speed dial to Cate in the other."

"He doesn't seem like someone you'd get along with," Gabrielle said primly.

Jack laughed at that. "I couldn't exactly see us as mates a year ago, either," he agreed, still remembering the way Dan had been so eager to tell everyone that he was the father of Charlotte's baby. "But he's got a lot of good qualities, and I can overlook the fact he's constantly looking to make me admit I'm more than just Mary Grey's godfather."

"_Are_ you?" Gabrielle couldn't help but ask.

"No. But points for being upfront about it. Jane got involved with one of her married professors – poor girl, in a lot of ways, she was a lot less streetwise than me – and Mary's the result. But they don't need him. I can be dad enough for her."

"I can't imagine you and her being close," Gabrielle admitted.

Jack flashed her a grin. "If you'd asked me seven years ago, me neither," he admitted. "But things kind of fell apart for me after you left, and she really came through for me. I suspect part of that was guilt in enabling Bianca, but..." he shrugged. "They both mean a lot to me so I suppose I shouldn't question how they came into my life."

Gabrielle asked if Jack had a photo, and he went off the retrieve it. She remembered when she had first seen Jane, she had thought of her as Bianca's doppelganger. But this Jane Grey was far more poised and independent; she knew who she was and her place in the world, and that gave her an additional beauty that she hadn't possessed before. Gabrielle was immediately jealous. Not to mention that Mary was an adorable child, the splitting image of her mother. Jack was in the photo, and while it was obvious from the body language that he had Jane weren't together, it was just as obvious that they meant a lot to him – especially Mary.

She couldn't help but wonder how he would feel about Ben. She had heard about Charlotte's miscarriage, of course, and how badly Jack had taken it. She hadn't realised he was so devoted to kids – but this photo told her that. "Not many men would take so much responsibility for a child that isn't theirs," she admitted with grudging admiration. If this was what he was like with Mary Grey, what would he be like with his own son?

But that was different. Mary Grey was clearly intelligent and precocious – exactly the kind of child any man, but Jack especially, would love to have. His own son with mentally challenged with ADHD. How proud of _him_ with Jack be?

"We were engaged for about ten minutes, actually," Jack said, smiling reminiscently as he remembered. "I wanted to give Mary my name and Jane actually accepted it, but – hell, I think it might even have worked if she hadn't seen just how I'd fallen apart when you left. I guess it's hard to commit to someone when you've seen how they felt about someone else. I think I would have taken it a lot better if you'd just _told_ me it was over. I wouldn't have wasted so much time writing to you."

Gabrielle stared blankly at him. "Sorry?" she asked.

Jack stared back at her, uncomprehending. "I wrote to you, like, half a dozen times," he said. "I went to the farm after we broke up and tried to speak to you and gave your dad a letter for you. Then I wrote to you another – " Jack stopped to think about it for a second, " – _six_ times over three years to let you know where I was if you wanted to get in touch with me. The last time was two years ago, when I started working here. And you never got any of it, did you?" he asked. Gabrielle shook her head. "Typical," Jack snorted derisively. "Always knew your dad was one of those types who can't let his children make his own decisions." The exact opposite of _his_ dad, actually. It was a pity you couldn't add and divide; if you evened out Russel Jaeger's over-protectiveness and Ned Quade's indifference, you may just get yourself two regular parents.

Jack was prattling on now, but Gabrielle had tuned out. All that she could think of was that Jack had written to her regularly over three years – maybe if she had gotten his letters she might have been able to contact him to tell him about Ben – her _dad_ had known where he was all along, or at least had known that his letters might contain information to where he was. Her dad, in trying to protect her, could very well have made things a lot worse.

"Hey, I've got you," Jack said. He had seen her start to drop as her knees gave way, seen her fall to one side and knew she would take most of her weight on her left foot, possibly injuring herself. He scooped her into his arms as naturally as if it had been yesterday that they had been deeply in love. For a second, he contemplated taken her to his bedroom, which was closer and where she'd be more comfortable, then decided against it; she hadn't come over to end up in his room. He carried her to the couch instead.

Gabrielle was forced to wrap her arms around Jack's neck or fall awkwardly. Resting her head against his shoulder, she couldn't help but remember how good it had once been between them. He was in just as good shape as he had been when he had been nineteen – perhaps even better now. And he was using a different deodorant of aftershave or whatever it was, but he still smelled like _Jack_. And it smelled _good_.

He lay her down on the couch with as much gentleness as he had once lain her down on his bed, but instead of moving on top of her like he once would have, he moved to the other end of the couch and took off her left shoe. "Rotate," he directed her, and she obeyed. "No pain?" she asked. She shook her head. "I'll get you an icepack just to be on the safe side," he said, and jumped up to go back to the kitchen.

"Thanks," she said in a small voice when Jack returned with an icepack. "And thanks for talking to admin. What did you say?"

"I told Alison we'd been involved years ago and that it ended acrimoniously and that I knew you to be more dignified than the way you were this morning and that it wouldn't happen again," Jack said.

"I shouldn't have acted like that," she said.

"You probably shouldn't have," Jack agreed with a rueful grin, because she had brought a whole world of gossip down on their heads for doing it, "but I don't blame you. For what it's worth, I did try to apologise. Like, ten times."

She certainly hadn't been expected to see this humble Jack. Or a Jack who seemed so much _older_. Of course, he _was_ older – so was he – but he seemed more than seven years older. More like seventeen. "Why did you do it?" she asked.

"No decent reason. I wanted things both ways. I wanted to be nineteen and date someone my own age but I _liked_ the admiration I got being on a par with such smart people older than me. I let myself think that I was entitled to it and I lost the most important thing in my life over it. I've regretted it ever since."

"Didn't stop you from sleeping with Charlotte," Gabrielle couldn't help but say. She had heard about it, of course; even if she _hadn't_ become known as Jack's ex, she was still the NUM, a position, ironically enough, held by _another_ two of Jack's exes; people had been coming up to her all day to tell her about his various exploits. When she had heard about Charlotte, her heart had sank. Clearly, he had a habit of doing crap like this.

"I don't want to talk about that," Jack said, his voice suddenly dangerously quiet, like a like with a calm surface and strong undercurrent, and too late Gabrielle remembered his night with Charlotte had ended with her miscarriage.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Not as sorry as I was." There was a distance in his eyes, and then Jack shook his head slightly as if to clear it of the cobwebs in his brain. "For what it's worth – I was really sorry."

"Do you know what she's up to?" Gabrielle asked. She assumed Jack had thought about Bianca enough in the last six years to know who she was referring to.

"Who?" Jack asked.

"Bianca."

The look on his face gave her a pleasant sense of satisfaction to realise he hadn't given Bianca much thought in the intervening years – while he'd thought about _her_ a lot. Not that that made up for what he had done, but still... "No idea," he said. "Jane might know, if you're interested."

So he didn't talk about Bianca, not even to Jane. "She really didn't mean anything to you?" Gabrielle asked.

"She really didn't. _I_ meant something to _her_, I guess," he said, remembering the way she had told anyone who would listen that he was Mary's father. "But I was never interested in her the way she wanted me to be – hell, I was barely interested in her sexually, even when I was drunk. Look, I know this is cold comfort for you, but really, when a guy can't get it up for a woman unless he'd drunk and she's throwing himself at her – I wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for that. It doesn't excuse what I did, but it wasn't like I was running around screwing everything on campus."

"It was really just the one time?" she asked.

Jack paused for an undetectable fraction of a section. Well, it wasn't like it would hurt her now, and besides, it had only been _twice_, which was hardly worse than _once_... but even as he justified it in his mind, he knew just how _much_ worse it was. A single indiscretion was bad enough; knowing he had done it before, and with the same woman... he didn't care to face Gabrielle's wrath, even after all this time. "Yeah, it was," he said.

"I wish dad had given me your letters," Gabrielle said. With all the time that had passed, and the fact Jack had come to her defence with admin even after she had reacted the way she had to seeing him, she felt a lot more forgiving towards him. And when he was just as good-looking and considerate as he had been way back then, it was hard _not_ to remember the good times of their relationship.

"Me, too," he said, and he leaned in to kiss her.

For a fraction of a second, she let him kiss her, their lips meeting briefly, and she let herself be taken back to a time when she was seventeen and had been deliriously in love and had seen a future where she and Jack married and lived happily ever after...

She pushed him away violently enough to make him lose his balance and land on his ass. "Jack!" she said. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry. I thought you wanted it." _And you did_, he added silently. He had been with enough women to know when they wanted it and when they didn't. Hell, he had known that deep down, Terri had wanted him, at least physically; he wouldn't have pursued her if he hadn't known they had that spark. And he definitely had that spark with Gabrielle.

"Why the hell would I _ever_ want to be with you again?" she asked indignantly, scrambling to her feet. She couldn't believe him! Of all the nerve! And she had just been thinking that maybe he was a decent guy after all! But he was just like any other guy, thinking with his dick, so arrogant that he figured she would ever want anything to do with him again.

_Maybe because you were _definitely_ ready to kiss me back_, Jack thought, resentful at her indignation, knowing that it partly stemmed from the fact he was right. People, men and women alike, were often most righteous about not wanting something when deep down, they actually _did_. "Sorry," he said again, not wanting to pick a fight with her. If she wanted to think of him as a womanising jerk who hit on everyone in every situation, well, let her.

"I think I should go," she said huffily.

"Probably." Then he couldn't resist snarkily adding, "Dan quite _likes_ not having coffee stains in his carpet."

"Go to hell!" she yelled at him before she stormed out the door.

_This is going to be interesting_, Jack thought.

* * *

"It was a summer romance between ninety-nine and two thousand that ended badly. I was just as surprised to see her as she was me, I just hid it better," Jack said to Frank Campion early the next day before Gabrielle got in. While he knew he couldn't avoid her altogether – trauma surgeons and ED staff tended to see a lot of one another – but he figured it was best for everyone if he saw as little of Gabrielle as possible.

Frank grunted. He was, naturally, less than impressed about yesterday's events. Trust Quade to screw up his staff _yet again_. And he hadn't even been happy to learn that he had a twenty-four-year-old as his NUM. True, she had a lot of experience running a clinic, but still, that was a small rural clinic, not exactly a busy ED in a suburban hospital.

And now it turned out she had a history with Quade. He was _sure_ Alison was behind this somehow.

Frank eyed Jack suspiciously. He seemed keen to make things right, but still – Frank was sure it was his damn fault that things were so unsettled in the first place. Jack and women, always a heady combination when it came to the gossips – which Frank was well aware were having a feast day. "Was it legal?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're relationship with her. Was it legal?"

Jack couldn't help but remember how much aggro there had been over her age. "She was seventeen," he said flatly, remembering Pamela Hastings. "Believe me, I checked."

If he was trying to impress Frank, he was failing miserably. "That young, huh?"

Jack scowled. "She's only two years younger than me," he said. It seemed like he was going to spend his life pointing that out. "Look, if you want to give anyone a hard time, vent at me, OK? Just don't take it out on her. I want to make this as easy in her as I can. I owe her that."

* * *

"How could you have kept something like that from me?" Gabrielle asked her father over the phone that evening.

"Would it have made a difference?" Russel asked.

"Of course it would have! I had no idea that he was trying to see me. Jesus, dad, they were _my_ letters. What you did was _fraud_."

"He told you that, did he?" Russel asked. Trust someone like Jack to pick up on that. "Look," Russel said placating. "If I had thought it would do you any good – but you already said he wouldn't have married you. I didn't see the point in giving you hope like that."

_He would have married Jane Grey_, Gabrielle thought. But then, she was hardly Jane Grey, and she wondered if maybe her dad had a point. Men like Jack didn't marry girls like her – not even if they'd gotten them pregnant. And Ben was hardly in the same league as Mary Grey. No, Jack wouldn't have married her, so maybe her dad had a point. He had certainly meant well. Misplaced, but well-meaning.

Russel sensed Gabrielle's weakening anger. "Come home," he suggested wheedlingly. "Everyone misses you. _I_ miss you."

"Dad, I can't. My _job_ is here, and I'm good at it. I _like_ not being dependant on you. But I'll organise for some time off as soon as I can," she promised, knowing that as the newest member of the ED stuff, the likelihood of her getting time off anytime soon was next to nil.

She spoke with her father a few more minutes, then hung up on him. She went to check on Ben. He had that same blank expression on his face that she was getting used to seeing. More than ever, she wished he could be like a normal boy. She thought about Jack, and Jane, and Mary, and wished he could have been so devoted to _her_. But she was just plain old Gabrielle Jaeger from some hick town with an intellectually slow son with ADHD. Jane Grey was a gorgeous, Sydney born-and-bred sophisticate with a gorgeous, intelligent little girl. _That_ was what Jack wanted. How the hell could she compete?

Not that she was interested in competing. Not that she cared about Jack. At. All.

* * *

"What's this I hear about you and a certain NUM?" Mike Vlasek asked Jack later that day. Jack had braced himself for it, but still, he resented the intrusion into his private life. Why the hell should anyone care about what he and Gabrielle did seven years ago?

"That's private," Jack said, longing to tell Mike that it was none of his goddamn business, but unfortunately, you weren't allowed to say that to your boss.

"I'll tell you about _my_ private life," Mike offered.

"No thanks."

"You're not like most surgeons, you know," Mike said. "You should be bragging about your conquests."

Jack shot Mike a filthy look, boss be damned. "Guess I'm not like most surgeons, then."

He caught up with Gabrielle the next day. His attempts to see as little of her as possible weren't working too well; there was just too much crossing between the two departments for that to work. "How you holding up?" he asked.

"Fine. I don't know why people are so interested in it."

"My fault, I'm sorry. Well... partly my fault, partly my ex's. When I broke up with her she retaliated by holding court at Cougars for two weeks and telling everyone who would listen that I was a lousy boyfriend and hung up on my ex. Which might actually have been true, except she named Jane."

"I haven't run into her yet," Gabrielle admitted.

"That's 'cos she's trying to keep her distance. Go and say hi yourself if you're OK with it." But Gabrielle couldn't see herself doing that. She knew in her head that Jane wasn't responsible for Jack cheating on her – that was solely Jack's responsibility, and maybe Bianca's at a stretch. But still, given how close the two women had been at the time, it was hard _not_ to resent Jack for the part she had played.

Even if Gabrielle hadn't already seen a photo of Mary Grey, she would have recognised the three-year-old immediately. She looked exactly like her mother. Same blond hair, same blue eyes, same fair skin. Mary was an adorable child.

"Had enough of The Wiggles?" Dan teased when he saw Jack with the little girl. He knew Jack was taking care of Mary for the day, and wasn't entirely surprised that he had brought Mary to Cougars. Much as he was devoted to the little girl, spending the entire day with no mental stimulation other than what a three-year-old provided.

Jack poked his tongue out. "Actually, it was _The Secret Garden_," he admitted. "Jane thinks The Wiggles are too young for her."

"I'm sorry, how old is she?" Gabrielle couldn't help but asking.

"I'm three," Mary said imperiously.

Jack chuckled at that. "She doesn't like people talking about her," he said, and it was clear he and Jane both treated her like she was older than she was. Gabrielle couldn't help but watching the way he was with her enviously, Mary sitting on Jack's lap like she belonged there – advertising to the world that she was his, biology be damned. He looked like the most natural father in the world, and she wondered if she had been wrong to not tell him about Ben.

But then, it was easy to be proud of a girl like Mary, adorable and clearly intelligent beyond her years. Gabrielle doubted that he would be so devoted to a five-year-old who lacked the intelligence to follow a Spot book.

"I don't think there's anything sexier than a guy who knows how to braid hair," Cate said after Jack had left. "If I didn't know his history with women, I'd be all over him."

"Forget that," Erica scoffed. "I'd be more concerned about Doctor Grey. Who wants to compete with _that_?"

Gabrielle was silent. Erica had a damn good point. Jane Grey was everything a man could want in a woman – gorgeous, intelligent, gracious, with a daughter to match. Jack had loved her enough he'd been willing to marry her. How the hell could she compete with _that_? She wasn't as pretty as Jane, wasn't as smart – and her own child was nowhere near as developed as Mary Grey, and he was two years older, to boot.

"Mary means a lot to you," Gabrielle said to Jack a few days later when he was in the ED. He didn't spend as much time as he would have, and she knew that was because of her.

"Yep."

"She's very smart for her age."

"She's got the intelligence of a five-year-old, plus Jane is big on stimulating her. She's has a motto of why treat her like a five-year-old when you can treat her like a ten-year-old," Jack said, smiling indulgently the way he did when Mary came up in conversation. "Of course, it doesn't help that I encourage her shamelessly."

"You never got encouraged as a kid, did you?" Gabrielle asked, remembering.

He looked at her oddly. "I'm surprised you remember that," he said. Talking about his childhood and family had never been something he'd enjoyed.

"I tried calling you about six months after we broke up," Gabrielle said. Actually, it had been more like eight months, but Gabrielle was paranoid that Jack might put two and two together. "I got hold of your stepmother. You said she was bitter, but she was more like – "

"A Disney villainess meets a raving alcoholic?" Jack offered. Gabrielle grinned and ducked her head. That was _exactly_ how Stella Quade had come across. "She wouldn't have known where I was, even if she _had_ been willing to tell you. I was travelling at that point."

"In the middle of fifth year?"

"I burnt out," Jack said simply, an easy enough explanation of what had happened. "I took a year off, travelled – did me the world of good, actually."

"I'm sorry." Even though he hadn't said as much, she could read between the lines; he had broken down, not burnt out, and their breakup had something to do with it. Maybe it was his own fault, but still -

Jack shrugged. "It wasn't your fault. I had been burning the candle at both ends for the last three years. When I was sixteen, I was trying to act nineteen, and when I was nineteen, I was trying to act twenty-two. Taking time out was the best thing I could have done. But that's why you couldn't get hold of me. I wish you had of been," he added wistfully.

"I spoke to my dad," Gabrielle said. "He admits to intercepting my mail. He had my best interests at heart."

"I suppose it doesn't matter now," Jack said, not sounding too convinced.

"I suppose it doesn't," she said, sounding even less convinced.

"For what it's worth – I'm really sorry for the way things turned out," he said. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know you didn't," she said. "I wish things could have been different."

"Me, too," he said, and impulsively he reached out and grabbed her hand, threading her fingers through hers and squeezing them. "I've never felt about anyone the way I did about you," he said.

His words were hypnotic, and Gabrielle desperately wanted to believe them. "What about Jane?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"Jane's my best friend, Mary's my goddaughter. They both mean the world to me... but then, so does my sister. It was never anything more than that. _You_ were the one I was crazy about."

"Jack," Gabrielle whispered, believing what he was saying despite himself. Jack brought his other hand up to her cheek, sliding behind the back of her neck like he had so many times before. He leaned in towards her, and she could taste him as if he were already kissing her...

"Gabrielle," Dan said, barging through the door. Jack jerked back violently, nearly falling out of his chair. "Ooops, did I interrupt something?" Dan asked.

"No," Jack said, bolting out of his chair. "I was... just going," he said, scurrying out of the room and leaving a surprised Dan and bewildered Gabrielle in his wake.

"What the hell was _that_ about?" Dan asked Jack that evening over beers. "And don't say it was nothing, or that you were getting something out of her hair, or any other Patented Jack Quade excuses for not admitting how you feel."

Jack scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, then realised he had to uncross them if he wanted his beer. "I don't know," he admitted. "We were talking and then we had this moment, and..." he shrugged.

"You still care about her," Dan said. It was a statement, not a question. Jack nodded slightly. "She must've been pretty special," Dan commented. He approved; Gabrielle was a definite improvement on Deanna. It was just a shame that they had become estranged. "What happened?"

"I cheated on her," Jack said flatly.

Dan spluttered out his beer at that. For all Jack's alleged promiscuity – not that Dan had seen him bring a woman home since he had moved in, unless you counted Jane – he was big on fidelity. Both men had witnessed what infidelity had done to their parent's marriages; it was something either cared to do to someone else. "Wow," he said, trying to process the idea of Jack cheating on someone – particularly someone that he obviously still cared for. And if he cared about her after all these years, imagine how he must have felt about her at the time! "She must have been quite a woman," he said, referring to the woman Jack had cheated on Gabrielle _with_.

Jack made a face, remembering Bianca. "She was gorgeous, if that's what you mean, but a first-class bitch," Jack said. "I was drunk and we had been fighting a lot..." Jack found himself telling Dan what had happened. "It was the stupidest thing I've ever done and I've never stopped regretting it."

"You want her back?"

Jack nodded. "I hurt her, badly," he admitted. "I didn't realise _how_ badly until I saw her again. I don't know if I can ever get her to trust me. Hell, I don't think _I_ would trust me in the same situation."

"Man, I'm so sorry," Dan said. "If it's worth anything, I think you have something special with her. Give her time. Get her to trust you again. She's been here for, what, a few weeks and already you're exchanging looks in the tea-room? Things can only get better from here."

* * *

"You alright?" Cate asked Jack

"Fine," he grunted.

He was missing Mike, Cate thought. The two had developed an excellent working rapport after a few initial hiccups, and Mike had pushed Jack much further as a surgeon than Vincent had. Now Mike had disappeared, and Jack was pissed off about it.

Cate knew that it had something to do with Mike's morphine addiction, but she didn't say anything to Jack about it. Mike was gone, and blackening his name – even just to enlighten his former protégé – wouldn't achieve anything. Besides, Cate suspected it had more to do with the funny vibes that Jack and Gabrielle were bouncing off each other. Cate remembered those vibes. She and Vincent had shared them, before she had been stupid enough to give into their chemistry. She just hoped that Jack treated Gabrielle with more respect.

Jack and Cate were called out to an MVA. He wasn't keen on meeting the new Head of Trauma. He had just gotten used to Mike, he didn't feel like breaking into a new rhythm with someone else. Things had been going well – he was learning a lot from Mike, and best of all, Gabrielle seemed more comfortable with having him around – and then the guy just up and disappeared. Things couldn't get much worse.

He was in for a massive shock when he and got to the trauma van and who was waiting for them but Bianca Miller. He stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't seen her in years, barely gave her a thought unless it was to do with Gabrielle, but he would always recognise her. She was the face that he had lost everything over, and for a drunk liaison that he hadn't particularly enjoyed. That he'd gotten syphilis out of, to boot.

Bianca's eyes narrowed when she saw him, and Jack knew that she'd been expecting him. She couldn't have been planning this, could she? He had known she had been a bitch when Jane had become pregnant, but that was over four years ago now – was she still angry about that? Had she really thought he was Mary's father, anyway?

Of course she had. She was Bianca Miller, deeply entitled and refusing to take responsibility for anything she did.

His thoughts soon turned to Gabrielle. If Bianca still held a grudge for the way things had been between them, then she would be holding it against Gabrielle, too. And while Jack was willing to wear Bianca's nastiness against himself, he didn't want Gabrielle exposed to that. They had put her through enough, although he doubted that Bianca would see it that way.

Bianca treated him nastily the entire time, making snarky comments about his ability as a surgeon, and cocksman, and everything she could think of until Cate was thoroughly confused, wondering what the hell was going on between the two of them who, as far as she knew, hadn't laid eyes on each other before today. But she didn't have the opportunity say anything to Jack, because Bianca sent him to escort a comatose man back to the hospital while she and Cate stayed back on the sexier side of the case.

Jack was appalled by Bianca's indifference to the patient's suffering, although he wasn't sure why she should be – the Bianca Miller he had gone to uni with hadn't been big on bedside manner. And to top it off, he discovered the 'r u horny' message that the patient had gotten – causing his wife to run their car off the road in a jealous rage – was a spam attack hitting mobile phones. He got one himself, and it made him think of Gabrielle. And how Bianca might react to learn the woman ran the ED.

He chased Bianca down later that day. "I wanted to speak to you," he said. "About what happened between us."

Bianca's eyes glittered dangerously. "You mean when you seduced me and gave me syphilis?" she spat.

"_Me_?" he squawked indignantly. "_You_ gave it to _me_."

"Are you calling me a slut?" she demanded. "I can't have kids because of you, and you have the _nerve_ to call me a slut?"

_Thank God for silver linings_, Jack thought. There were definitely worse things in the world than someone like Bianca Miller not being able to have children. "I'm sorry," he said, holding his tongue and trying to placate the situation.

"No you're not. You bastard, you can give _her_ a baby but take _my_ options away?"

"You mean Jane? Mary's not my daughter – believe me, I would _love_ to claim her. She's an amazing girl. They both are," Jack couldn't resist saying.

Bianca glowered hatefully. She had seen pictures of Mary Grey; the child was gorgeous. It wasn't that she wanted a child, even one like Mary, she just hated the fact that _Jane_ had one. And that Jack, despite never having deviated from his claim that Mary wasn't his, was still devoted to the girl. Why couldn't he have shown that devotion to _her_? What was it Jane and Gabrielle had that _she_ didn't? "You used me," she hissed.

"_I_ used _you_? You've _got_ to be kidding me. You waited until I was drunk and took advantage of me."

Bianca laughed meanly. "You're kidding me. You make it sound like I raped you."

_If the situation had been reversed... _Jack thought. If _she_ had been drunk and _he_ had been sober... but Bianca was incapable of seeing things other than through her extremely narrow, self-centred world view. "Look," he said, suddenly wanting to be as far away from her as possible. "You want to hate me, go right ahead. But if you do _anything_ to Gabrielle – well, you've never seen me angry."

Bianca scowled. She had found out by now that Gabrielle Jaeger was the ED's NUM and she wondered how that came about. Had Gabrielle come deliberately, or had it been sheer co-incidence? There was talk about them, of course – someone like Jack couldn't have an ex show up without there being talk about it – but from what Bianca had gleaned, it was nothing more than gossip. Still – it cut her deeply to know Gabrielle was still around.

What did that frigid virgin have that she didn't?

"I'll do what I want," she said haughtily. "I'm your boss, remember?" She laughed again. "I seem to recall a time you _liked_ me being on top."

Jack shoved Bianca against the wall, his hand around her throat. "I _never_ want to think about that," he hissed. "It was the most repulsive experience of my life and I wouldn't have touched you if I hadn't been trashed out of my skull." He closed his fingers around her throat, feeling her fight his hold. "You want to be a bitch to me? Fine, I deserve it. But she never did anything to you other than be someone I loved, and if you punish her for that, you _will_ pay for it. _Do you understand me_?" he asked. Bianca nodded vigorously, and Jack released her.

"You bastard!" she yelled at him. "Is that how you get your rocks off these days? Beating up defenceless women?"

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh. "You were never _defenceless, _Bianca," he said. Defenceless like a Great White shark, maybe. "Say what you want about me, but leave her the hell alone." And with that he stalked off, leaving Bianca to seethe about the fact that, even though six years had passed, he was still deeply in love with Gabrielle – and disgusted by Bianca.

* * *

Jack cringed when he saw Bianca wearing nothing but one of Dan's shirts. Well, he had seen her in _less_, although that was something he cared not to remember. It seemed like something out of a bad movie. He wasn't sure if Bianca had engineered this or it was just pure dumb luck that she had taken up with his housemate... and wait a second, she was using a different name to the one he had known her by. Did this mean she was _married_? Was Dan sleeping with a married woman? Though he supposed it wouldn't surprise him – Bianca didn't exactly have the morals of a saint.

Well, he wasn't going to stick around. "I'm going to Jane's," he said, loud enough for Bianca to hear, making a big show of retrieving the house keys he had of hers on the key rack. He relished the look on her face when she realised they were close enough that he had keys to her house.

"What was _that_ about?" Dan asked Bianca once Jack had left. "Do you guys know each other?"

"No idea," Bianca cooed. "I've never seen him before today. Bit arrogant, though."

"He's a good guy once you get to know him," Dan said. He felt oddly guilty, and he didn't know why. It wasn't like he had even asked Jack to leave – although Jack going to Jane's voluntarily had saved him the trouble.

"Whatever," Bianca said, and Dan detected an undertone in her voice. She walked over to Dan and threw her arms around him. What had started as a one-night stand to get revenge on Peter's many infidelities had ended as a wonderful way to make Jack feel unwelcome in his own home – although finding out that he and Jane were close enough for him to have keys to her house was disconcerting. "I can think of far better things to do than talking about another guy," she cooed.

"I agree," Dan said, picking her up and carrying her back to his room.

* * *

Jack caught up with Gabrielle in the cafeteria the next day. "This coffee is awful," he said.

"Not all of us have four-grand coffee machines," Gabrielle said with a smile. She was feeling good. Lately she'd been feeling relaxed about Jack. She still had no idea how she was supposed to tell him about Ben, but she was slowly beginning to trust him again.

"You should come over one day," Jack suggested, hoping his tone was super-casual. He didn't want to sound like he was pushing for a date. _That is, if Bianca's not around_. Hmm, maybe he should move all his stuff to Jane's – at least his expensive stuff. If Bianca was as spiteful as she had been at uni, he wouldn't be surprised to come home and find his four-grand coffee machine blown up.

"Maybe," Gabrielle said. _I'd like that_. She smiled at him, and when he only managed a weak half-smile back, she was worried. "Something wrong?" she asked him, and the expression on his face told her that plenty was wrong.

"Do you remember Bianca Miller?" he asked.

"I walked in on your screwing her, Jack, I'm not about to forget her. Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "I thought you said you hadn't seen her since uni," she said suspiciously.

"I haven't, I swear," he said. "But the thing is – she's my new boss."

She looked at him with even greater suspicion. "Jack, if that's some tasteless joke about women on top – well, it's tasteless."

"I wouldn't joke about something like that," Jack said with quiet sincerity. "I found out yesterday. She's my new boss and she hates me. I – " he started to talk about her irrational resentment against him, her belief that he had given her syphilis instead of the other way around and was therefore responsible for her infertility, before realising how selfish it was of him to unload all his problems onto her. "I'm sorry," he said.

She wanted to say that it wasn't his fault she had shown up after all these years – that of all the hospitals in the country, she had managed to pick All Saints. Gabrielle wondered if it was planned or co-incidental. All she could think about was seeing them together, her almost naked and bent over the table while he screwed her brains out... She shuddered with relieved devastation. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's not your fault," she said. "I just never thought I'd have to hear about her again."

"I'm sorry," he again. He knew she was about to tell him it wasn't his fault again, and he waved her silent. "Not for Bianca being here. For cheating on you in the first place. She didn't even mean anything to me, and that's what makes it even worse. Here..." He scooted around so he was sitting next to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I wish I could take it back. I wish I could make it better."

The feel of his arms around her was comforting, so comforting and so familiar, and she didn't have the strength to pull away. Instead, she buried her face in his neck, not caring who could see them. He felt her go limp in his arms and he held her reassuringly, running his hands soothingly up and down her back. "Thanks," she said when she pulled away from him. "I'm such a sook."

"You're an amazing young women who's been put through far more than she deserves," Jack said. "If there's anything I can do for you – anything at all – just let me know." Gabrielle nodded slightly. She didn't see what Jack could possible do for her, but it was still nice that he wanted to help. They got to their feet, and impulsively, Jack hugged her again. She felt so good in his arms that Jack had to restrain himself from kissing her. "I'll walk you to the ED," he said, unwilling to let go of the moment just yet.

Bianca watched them as she crossed the quad. There wasn't anything particular intimate about the way he had his arm draped casually across her back, he had been like that with Cate yesterday, but still – she gritted her teeth to watch them together. They certainly _looked_ cosy, and Bianca wondered if there _were_ just colleagues.

She was just as tall and just as plain as she had been six years ago. Bianca didn't understand what Jack saw in her. She scowled, thinking about the way Jack had wanted nothing more to do with her after such a steamy night together. He had certainly been all over her when it had come to his penis, but as soon as he'd gotten his rocks off –

And she didn't even have the pleasure of knowing she had forced him to crash somewhere uncomfortable. Though it pleased her to know Dan was willing to kick his so-called best mate out so he could get laid.

"Jack, what's with you and Bianca?" Dan asked a week later. She had stayed at his place every night in the last week, and every night she had made snarky comments about Jack.

Jack put on his best ignorant look. "No idea," he said.

"Really? 'Cos the things she said about you and Gabrielle, I thought you must have some kind of history with her."

Jack's hackles were immediately raised. "What did she say?" Jack asked, and Dan instinctively took a step backwards. He had the same look in his eyes that he'd gotten when he'd found out who was responsible for Charlotte's miscarriage. Jack was an easygoing guy, Dan knew, but there was no denying he had a temper when provoked. And something told Dan he could be provoked over Gabrielle. His own reputation, he didn't give a shit about, but Gabrielle... "_What did she say_?" Jack asked again.

"Uh... just that she had heard you weren't the faithful type... and that Gabrielle didn't seem like the type men were faithful to," Dan said. Which wasn't exactly what Bianca had said, but he was immediately glad that he hadn't repeated her word-for-word.

"Really?" Jack asked coolly. _Cunt. First-class cunt_. Well, two could play at that game. "I don't know how she would know something like that, Doctor Miller and I weren't exactly close."

Dan's brow furrowed in confusion. "Doctor Miller?" he asked. "Don't you mean Doctor Frost?"

Jack smiled sweetly. "Of course that's what I meant. I'm just used to thinking of her when she was at uni. That's the name she used."

"I'm sorry?" Dan asked. "What do you mean, that's the name he used?"

"Uh... that's the name she used," Jack repeated, putting on his best Patented Jack Quade Intellectual Snob Voice. "I didn't know her very well – she's three years older than me so we didn't exactly hang out." _Zing!_ Jack thought gleefully. Bianca must have lied about her age – or at least mislead Dan into thinking she was younger than she was. _Take that_. "She and Jane were pretty close, though."

"Jane Grey?"

"The one and only."

"So – you and Jane and Bianca all went to uni together? Why does she hate you so much _now_ then?"

Jack shrugged. "Beats me," he said, and it truly did. No rational person put so much stock in two drunk experiences. He was tempted to tell Dan the truth, but it was fun to keep the guy in the dark. Besides, he had planted the seeds of doubt in Dan's mind; he would eventually work things out.

"Are you married?" Dan asked Bianca when she came over later that day.

"What?" Bianca asked.

"Are you married? Jack keeps calling you Doctor Miller, and I looked it up. It's the name you have your licence under," Dan said.

He was smarter than she had given him credit; Bianca didn't have much respect for nurses, even ones like Dan who had other talents. "My husband and I have... an understanding," she said. She was fuming,. How _dare_ Jack go blabbing about their uni years. OK, so she had started it, mentioning him and Gabrielle, but that didn't give the guy any right to go blabbing.

"And you didn't think to _tell_ me?" Dan asked indignantly. "Bianca, my parent's marriage almost broke down because my dad cheated. It's not something I ever wanted to be party to."

Bianca flashed him the saucy pout that he found so alluring. "I told you, we have an understanding," she said. "He does his thing and I do mine." She reached out and ran her fingers along the back of his neck the way he liked. "Why don't we forget about it?" she cooed. And she brought her other hand to a much lower point on his body, and it was forgotten about, at least for the time being.

* * *

"I can't believe she's still holding a grudge," Jane said. Actually, she could believe it. This was a woman who had been convinced that Jack was Mary's father for no better reason than jealousy. "Why don't you just tell Dan what's going on?"

"And achieve what? He'll work it out eventually, without me looking like the bad guy and talking trash about her. Honestly? It bothers me more that he was so quick to see the back of me more than her being around does. She's a first-class bitch who'll be found out soon enough, she's not a good enough actress to keep it up for long. But I expected more out of someone who was supposed to be my best mate."

Jane squeezed Jack's hand reassuringly. "_I'm_ your best mate," she said. "_He_ is just an idiot who doesn't appreciate loyalty and who is going to feel pretty stupid when he realises he's backing the wrong horse. And in the meantime, I'm loving having your around. I don't know why we didn't think of this beforehand."

"We did, remember? We decided it wasn't worth the gossip."

Jane laughed at that. "Right. I forgot." She poured herself another champagne. "It _is_ lovely having you around," she said. "I love kids, I wouldn't be doing what I do if I didn't, but sometimes between Mary and the ward I feel like my brain is rotting to a primary-school level."

"Admit it, you wouldn't give it up for the world," Jack said.

"No, I wouldn't," Jane admitted. She detected the wistful note in Jack's voice. "How are you handling Charlotte's pregnancy?" she asked. "And don't tell me you're fine and you're happy for her. This is _me_ you're talking to. I remember how you just about how to be surgically removed from the vodka bottle when Charlotte miscarried."

"I'm trying to be happy for her," Jack said. "I _am_ happy for her... I'm just sad for myself at the same time. Sometimes I'll be in the park or we'll have a one-year-old girl come in and I think that could have been her. I still wonder if it wasn't Karmic retribution for being such a shit boyfriend to Gabrielle. Not to mention the way I reacted when I first found out Charlotte was pregnant." His eyes went out of focus as he stared off in the distance. "I'd've made a good dad," he said wistfully.

Jane squeezed his hand again. "I know you would have," she said, her heart going out to him.

* * *

"What are you grumpy about?" Jack asked Charlotte.

"My replacement. She's younger than me _and_ she has her Fellowship," Charlotte said.

"She's probably some super-ambitious megabitch like Bianca," Jack offered. "We'll be begging for you to come back before you hit your third trimester."

Charlotte smiled thinly. "Thanks," she said. Jack had been an absolute sweetheart when he'd found out about her pregnancy, doing her a lot of little favours without making her feel like an invalid. Several times she found herself wishing that he was her baby's father and not Spence. If Jack's relationship with Mary Grey was anything to go by, he would make an excellent father. Spence was a paediatrician, but she was yet to get the sense that Spence would be someone who could focus on the one when he was trained to focus on the many. Maybe if Spence would come back to Australia – but she had no clue if she and their baby were important enough to leave Somalia and the work he held so dear over. At least she could be confident that Jack would always be there for her, if only as a pseudo-uncle. And he'd be in her corner of this super-ambitious megabitch that Frank was hiring to cover her during her maternity leave.

"When does she get here?" Jack asked.

"Sometime this week, I think," Charlotte said.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for her... report back to you," he said.

Charlotte patted him on the cheek. "You're a good mate," she said gratefully.

She made her appearance the next day. Jack was at the staffbase, attempting to finish up his paperwork but actually mucking around with Cate. He heard her voice, and jerked his head up, thinking that maybe he was so involved with this Bianca crap that he was hallucinating other people from his past. But no, there she was. _Of all this hospitals in all the country_, Jack thought as he locked eyes with Zoe Gallagher.

12


	10. Chapter 10

"Hi, Jack. I was just making some tea, do you want some?" Zoe peered into Jack's face. "Or maybe something harder. I have beer, and scotch somewhere."

"I've never met a woman who drank scotch," Jack said. It seemed like such an idiotic thing to be talking about.

"Habit I picked up from my ex-husband. Got all his good stuff in the divorce," she added with an impish smile. "Come in." Jack followed her through the house into the kitchen, and she poured them both scotch and cokes. "I expected you earlier," she said.

"My shift didn't finish until six," he protested. It was only quarter to seven.

"And it's twenty minutes between the hospital and here," Zoe said. "Half an hour with traffic."

"I circled the block four times," Jack admitted. It was a little disconcerting that Zoe had been expecting him. "Look, I'm sorry if I was abrupt with you today," he said.

She waved her hand away. "It's fine. I was just as surprised as you were. I don't expect it's a period of your life that you care to remember."

Jack shook his head slightly. When he thought about those weeks following Gabrielle breaking up with him – "Look, I can trust you not to say anything, can't I?" he asked.

"Jack, even if I was the town gossip, I'm still bound by law not to say anything to my patients," Zoe reminded him.

"I know that in my head. It's just... you and Jane are the only two people who know about it."

"Jane Grey?" Zoe asked. Jack nodded. "You still keep in touch with her?"

"She's the reason I ended up at All Saints, basically." And Jack told her about Mary.

"You know she was the main reason I argued for your release," Zoe said. "I had this instinct that you'd be safe in her care. Paediatrics is exactly something I can see her in."

"I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me," Jack said.

"It was my job."

Jack smiled sadly. "I've had plenty of people in my life whose _job_ it was to take much better care of me than you did. So excuse me for thinking that you did something pretty special."

"Can I...?" Zoe asked, holding her arms out on the table, palms up. Jack mirrored the gesture so Zoe could inspect his wrists. "You know, _I_ can't see the scars and I saw you open the wounds half a dozen times."

"I could have been better behaved," Jack admitted ruefully.

"Oddly enough, I do actually understand," Zoe said. "I can't believe it took me as long as it did to work it out. Did they ever prosecute the guy who did it?"

"Patrick? No. At least, not as far as I know. I don't exactly keep track of where I came from."

"I noticed." Jack looked at her quizzically. "You've taken elocution lessons," she commented.

"Just hung out with the Greys long enough. My dad reckons I sound like a snob, which is good enough for me."

"You really don't like where you came from, do you?"

Jack shook his head. "My dad, stepmother and Patrick Wesley between them ruined my life. And I had this crappy working-class accent, too."

"At least some things you can change," Zoe said dryly. "I'm glad you're doing well." Or at least as well as someone who had been through what Jack had could be expected to do. There was a pregnant pause, and Zoe sensed there was something Jack wasn't telling her that contradicted his claim that he was 'doing well'. "Jack," she pushed him gently.

"The girl, it's Gabrielle," he blurted out.

"Pardon?" Zoe asked.

"The girl I slit my wrists over – it's Gabrielle. Gabrielle. _Jaeger_. Your _NUM_," he clarified.

Zoe's eyes went wide with comprehension. "Jesus," she said. "I thought there was a vibe between you. How did _that_ happen?"

"Sheer dumb luck. I'm trying to give her space but everytime I'm near her... And it gets worse." Jack explained about Bianca. "I don't think she came to All Saints deliberately. But I feel like I'm waiting for things to explode in my face. I don't trust her. I don't trust anyone who holds a grudge for so long... and can't take responsibility for her actions." Someone like that was sure to make Gabrielle a target for her long-simmering resentment sooner or later.

* * *

Bianca eyed Gabrielle critically. That uniform did _nothing_ for her, and she appeared to have put on weight. Not that she had been a super-slender teenager in the first place.

And then there was the fact Jack could barely keep his eyes off her. _That_ was the worst part. She knew she had never been able to make Jack look at her like that, even when he had been drunk. And yet here was this dumpty girl from the country who could make him look at her like that without even trying, without even wanting it.

Bianca hated her.

And needled her mercilessly. About her experience, about her intelligence, about her looks, a dozen zingers aimed in her direction while the two women were forced to work together on an emergency trauma patient. "You married, Giselle?" Bianca asked at one point, deliberately getting her name wrong again.

"No," Gabrielle said through gritted teeth.

"Boyfriend?" Gabrielle shook her head, knowing what Bianca was getting at. "I suppose you've always got your career to fall back on, then," she said. Bianca had already made it clear she thought nursing was a skill like waitressing, so lowly and poorly-paid that there would _always_ be work available.

Jack's heart broke for Gabrielle when he saw her flinch slightly but otherwise hide her reaction to the cruelty of Bianca's words. "You want me to hit her?" he offered later in the tea room. "I've never hit a woman in my life, but I'm happy to make an exception."

"Thanks, but the last thing I need is you antagonising her even more," Gabrielle said bitterly. "Sorry," she said the second the words were out of her mouth. "I know it's not your fault. Was she always this much of a bitch?"

"From what Jane says, yeah. Jesus, Gabs, I'm so sorry. We've put you through enough already." He reached out and squeezed her hand, and was gratified that she didn't pull away. "I swear, if I have to destroy her, she's not going to hurt you anymore."

He left Gabrielle to her job and called Jane. "I give you permission to be as much of a bitch as you can manage," he said. "I want her gone." And Jane knew by the tone of her voice that he meant Bianca.

* * *

"What the _hell_ are you playing at?" Dan asked Bianca later that night. "What the fuck was that little display about?"

"I don't like her," Bianca said coolly. "She's far too young to have a position of authority."

"She's only five years younger than you," Dan pointed out. Actually, Jack had been gleefully telling everyone that Bianca was nearly thirty and none of the bitchy comments in the world would change that. "Do you have a history with her?"

"_That_ plain Jane?" Bianca sniffed haughtily. "When would I _ever_ have had anything to do with _her_?"

"Well, you and Jack were at uni around the same time, and he was with Gabrielle at that point. Did you guys know each other?"

"As if," Bianca said coolly, "I'd waste my time with either of them. They're _both_ younger than me. I knew Jack vaguely," she finally conceded, "and I knew he was dating someone... inappropriate."

"She's two years younger than him," Dan pointed out.

Bianca shrugged. "She's not exactly in our league," she said, and Dan knew she meant in the league of someone who had studied at AUMEL. He didn't like it when she said things like that – and she was saying things like that with increasing frequency. If Gabrielle was beneath 'them' for being a mere nurse involved with an AUMEL graduate, what did that say about what she thought about _him_?

"Whatever," Dan said. "I'd stop provoking him if I were you. Jack really doesn't give a shit about what people say about him, but he cares about Gabrielle a lot, and you don't want to push him too far."

* * *

Zoe had managed to make it to Cougars a week after her first shift at All Saints, and she was glad she had made the effort. She had known Jack and Jane were strongly in sync, but watching them work in tandem, united against Bianca, was fascinating. Zoe was beginning to think she shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss the sibling claim; they were almost like twins.

It didn't take her long to realise what they were doing. They were displaying their easy, good-natured camaraderie with enjoyable banter that engaged people in a way that Bianca, with her haughtiness and arrogance, could never do... and all without mentioning Bianca. It was easy to let her nastiness speak for herself.

"Jack was full of himself," Jane teased. "Can't say I wouldn't be if I were as smart, but _God_ you were full of yourself."

"You were just jealous," Jack retorted.

"Of a sixteen year old whose idea of fun was reading _War and Peace_ in Russian was fun?" Jane asked. "Yeah, a little."

"Wait – you can read _War and Peace_ in Russian?" Bart asked, impressed.

"It was how he skipped year ten," Gabrielle put in. "He skipped year four by terrorising eight-year-olds by reciting chunks of _Lord of the Flies_."

There were a few snickers from that, and Jack got defensive. "They were wusses," he said. Mind you, he had witnessed far scarier things by age eight than a fictional story about stranded English schoolboys in the second world war.

"Jack, I was seventeen and you could scare _me_. Honestly, I don't know how you got the library to get those books out."

"Caught a bus to the next shire, made a pile of _Famous Five_ books and they left me in peace to read whatever I liked," Jack said smugly.

"You know," Jane said, "I think I'm more concerned that you went to so much effort to read books way above your age level than the fact you were reading them in the first place." But her tone was affectionate. "The first time we met Jack, he was reading _War and Peace_ in the tavern like he belonged there. I think the university was too pleased to have a student who read Russian literature _in_ Russian to kick him out."

"That's unusual," Bart asked, a little disappointed. Like almost every doctor in the country, he had harboured hopes of going to AUMEL, and the place had long since taken on a legendary element in his mind.

"We had just as many hard-core partiers as any other university in the country," Jane said. "Possibly more. We attracted every arrogant doctor, engineer and lawyer in the country. This is the twenty thousand smartest people in Australasia, the competition was pretty fierce. We used to give Jack so much flack for his age."

"When?" Jack asked indignantly, who had gone to a lot of effort to assimilate himself with people two years and more older than him – contributing to the difficult situation he'd found himself in with Gabrielle.

"Behind your back," Jane said sweetly. "Bianca was just clever enough to know not to say it to your face."

"Bianca?" Dan echoed dumbly. _Used to give him so much flak?_ "I thought you didn't know her well," he said. That didn't sound like not knowing someone well.

"We were close through most of uni," Jane said. "Lost touch after we graduated." _And she made up a whole lot of crap about Mary_, Jane added silently. She was surprised at how little that mattered anymore. She was beginning to see why Jack felt sorry for her; she was a beautiful, brilliant woman with a phenomenal career in front of her, but so consumed by bitterness that she had nothing better to do wither time than insult a lovely girl for an imagined slight committed years ago.

Charlotte grinned. "So – you knew Jack when he and Gabrielle were together?" she asked.

"That would be – "

"None of your business," Jack and Jane finished in unison. Zoe smirked at that. Also at the fact Jack had managed to drape his arm across the back of Gabrielle's chair, and Gabrielle hadn't objected, or was looking the least bit uncomfortable over it. In fact, she seemed to be rather enjoying herself. For the first time since she had started working at All Saints, she understood how close Jack and Jane were – and wasn't the least bit jealous. It was quite clear that while they were deeply fond of each other, there was no romantic or sexual chemistry between them. She instinctively knew that despite their short-lived engagement, there was no heat between them.

Not the way there was heat between her and Jack right now, the way he was brushing his fingertips across the bare skin on her back that her shirt didn't cover. And maybe it was the two pints she had consumed, but she liked it.

Another hour passed, and Gabrielle said she needed to get home. Julia was over for a week and had agreed to watch Ben, but Gabrielle knew she had to be getting back to her son. "I'll give you a lift," Jack offered. He had watched what she drank – she could handle alcohol no better now than she could when she was seventeen – and didn't want her driving home. Besides, it was a great opportunity to be alone with her. Gabrielle was immediately torn between the fact she _wanted_ Jack to drive her home – both because she knew she wasn't fit to drive herself, and she felt a thrill at the idea of being alone with him – and her brain telling her it wasn't a good idea. "Fine, then, I'll walk you to your car," Jack offered when Gabrielle protested.

The short walk to her car forced her to admit that she wasn't fit to drive herself home. "I assure you I won't hit on you, if that's what you're worried about," Jack said graciously, muttering under his breath, "unless I think you want me to."

She got into his car. "You traded up," she said.

"Mike shamed me into it. Threatened to fire me, actually, said no surgeon of his was being seen in a rust bucket."

Gabrielle took note of the booster seat in the back, "I think it was actually Jane, and she told you that you couldn't drive Mary around in it, and you caved," she said, and laughed when Jack looked sheepish. "Thanks for tonight," she said. Without saying a word against Bianca, Jane and Jack's camaraderie and banter had told everyone at the table – except maybe for Dan, who was reluctant to see the truth about his lover – that the woman was a mean-spirited, vengeful human being holding onto imaginary slights, and that Jack had been devoted to Gabrielle, and whatever resentment Bianca felt stemmed from that. Over just a few hours people had looked at her differently. Especially since Jack's arm had hardly left her back.

It was a heady feeling.

"It's only what I owed you," Jack said. "You don't deserve the crap she's dishing out to you, and people know it. She's made a lot of enemies – Jane included."

"But not you."

"I wouldn't have a thought to spare her if she wasn't being such a bitch to you," Jack said with vehemence that warmed her despite the undertone of violence in his voice. "She's got no reason to be angry about the way I feel about you."

"The way you feel about me?" Gabrielle echoed.

"_Felt_ about you," Jack corrected. But the words were out there and couldn't be taken back... and neither of them wanted them to be.

He arrived at her place. "I'm surprised you bought here," he said. "Seems a bit too much for you."

It was a family-oriented suburb, a well-kept four-by-two, Jack could see that just from the drive. "I'm a farm girl, I settle in for life," Gabrielle lied smoothly, having already rehearsed in case anyone, least of all Jack, thought it was odd that she needed such a big house in a not-exactly-cheap suburb all for herself. "I figured I'd buy in an area I'd want to raise a family in to start with rather than needing to move somewhere nicer five or ten years from now."

Jack took the lie at face value. "I'll walk you to the door," he said, not willing to let her go just yet.

"Jack, that's not – " she started to say before seeing the futility of protesting when he was out of the car before her. It was just like when he had insisted on driving home. If she hadn't, deep down, wanted him to, she would call him obnoxiously persistent. He walked her to the front door and she knew she couldn't let him go any further. She had already let him come too far; all Ben had to do was start one of his screaming fits if Julia had forgotten to give him his medication. She fished her keys out of her bag, feeling out the house key, intent on sending him on his way. "Thanks for bringing me home," she said, feeling suddenly breathless now that he was so close to her – closer than he had been in the car – and it was almost over. "You're right, I wasn't fit to drive."

"You're welcome," he said, and kissed her. She should have known he would try – _had_ known, deep down... and had wanted him to. Her brain started to formulate the words to push him away, but her body was responding having his so close, the feel of his mouth gently on hers, his tongue running over her lips, gently probing her mouth, searching it out with his, moving even closer against her so her body was wedged between his and the wall...

She had forgotten just how good a kisser he was, how good it felt when she was in his arms, how wonderful he smelled, that combination of soap and deodorant, the feel of his hands on her waist, simultaneously chaste and deeply sensual at the same time. He was clean-shaven – he used to cultivate facial hair, probably because he was so sensitive about how young he was – and it was a pleasant change to feel his bare chin against hers. She felt herself become lightheaded and knew it wasn't because of the alcohol. At least, not entirely. "Jack," she gasped. "Jack, no..." Even to her own ears she knew how unconvincing she sounded.

"Yes," he grunted, hearing the lack of conviction in her voice and feel her body pushing up against his to tell him what she _actually_ wanted. He started kisses her face and neck with abandon. It had been over six years since he had last kissed her, but it felt both like it was yesterday and like he had been starved a lifetime of her at the same time. How could he have believed that any of the women he had been with made him feel the way he felt about Gabrielle? How could he have believed that he could love someone like he loved her?

Despite herself, Gabrielle responded to his kisses, wrapping her arms around his neck, running her fingers – one hand still holding the keys – through his hair. "No," she said again, even more weakly.

Jack didn't even bother to saying _yes_ again. He pulled the keys out of her hand, handling the house key with ease, getting it into the lock with remarkable skill given he had his eyes shut and wasn't exactly concentrating on unlocking the door. Dimly, Gabrielle realised what Jack was going to do, and knew she had to stop him. "Jack, no," she said, this time far more forcefully. "Please, not like this."

Her words had the desired affect, triggering off a memory in Jack's brain. He knew what it was like not to be in your right mind when you made decisions about sex. He had destroyed his relationship with Gabrielle over it. He didn't want to push her into something she would regret later.

He pulled away. "This isn't the end of it," he said quietly. "But I don't want you to do something you'll regret 'cos you've had a few." He spoke those words ruefully, and she knew he was thinking about the disastrous decision he had made with Bianca after he had 'had a few'. Gabrielle nodded, and watched Jack go before letting herself into the house.

"How was it?" Julia asked. She knew Gabrielle had been wanting to join her colleagues for after-work drinks, but couldn't because she needed to pick Ben up from daycare; she had offered to spend some time with her godson instead.

"Good," Gabrielle said, feeling breathless as well as lightheaded.

"You OK?" Julia asked, a trifle concerned. She could smell the alcohol on Gabrielle. And she wasn't the steadiest on her feet right now, either. "You didn't drive home like that, did you?" They had _both_ seen the result of drink-driving, coming from a farming community. With an absence of taxis or pubs (or even mates) in walking distance, the temptation to drink after having 'had a few' was great.

"No, Jack drove me home," Gabrielle said before she'd thought her words through.

Julia raised one eyebrow. "Jack _Quade_?" she asked. "_Ben's_ dad?" Gabrielle didn't need to answer; she looked like a giddy schoolgirl, and that was answer enough for Julia. "So, what, you decided to make out with the father of your son without actually telling him about his son?"

"Don't judge me," Gabrielle said testily.

"Honey, I'm not judging you. I'm the one who told you to hear him out, remember?" she reminded Gabrielle. Gabrielle had filled her in of every exchange she had had with Jack since starting at All Saints, and Julia was getting the impression of a man who was going out of his way to make her feel at ease – and who still cared about her. Which didn't particularly surprised Julia; she had only met Jack briefly, but he didn't seem the type to callously crew around. He had done a terrible thing but it was very possible he had done it out of a combination of alcohol and immature entitlement. He had never struck Julia as a compulsive philanderer like Steve Taylor. And Julia had never felt comfortable with Gabrielle's decision not to tell Jack about Ben. Cheating – especially what was possible a single, drunk indiscretion – was hardly an automatic disqualifier for good parenting. And to find out that Jack had been trying to get in touch with Gabrielle, not once but several times over several years- well, surely that was a sign that he still cared, not to mention that he had a right to know about Ben?

So Gabrielle found herself telling Julia what had happened that night. "It sounds like he still cares about you a lot," Julia said. "Do you believe him, that it was the only time?"

"I want to," she admitted. "And I don't know if I want to 'cos I actually believe him and how much is 'cos he still makes me feel pretty incredible and I have these – these _thoughts_ about us as a family."

Of course she would have such thoughts. Julia had met Jack, she knew him to be a charming, good-looking man, how could Gabrielle _not_ have such thoughts about him? "Whatever you're feeling," she said, "he has to know about Ben." Hell, maybe he would have something to say about the way Gabrielle was keeping Ben heavily medicated. Julia was familiar with the angry, uncooperative brat that Ben Jaeger was without the meds, but it was such an unnatural way for a child to be.

* * *

"Is Jack here today?" Gabrielle asked Zoe the next day.

"He volunteers at White's on Wednesdays as a tutor," Zoe replied.

"Who or what is White's?"

"White's Academy. It's an independent primary and high school for gifted children. He volunteers there for kids whose families can't afford to pay for tutors."

"I've never heard of it."

"That doesn't surprise me. It's pretty exclusive – people tend not to hear of it until they fancy their kid to be a prodigy and start looking at the best schools to send them to. It's very competitive and Jack likes to make things more equal for kids who aren't from wealthy backgrounds."

"I don't get it. If it's such a great school, why didn't Jack get in?"

"He did," Zoe said, looking at Gabrielle with surprised. She had thought the younger woman knew that already. "His dad wouldn't let him go. It's part of why he got emancipated. I thought you knew that."

"No," Gabrielle said, because she had first met Jack when he had been nineteen and since he didn't talk much about his childhood, other than to say his step-mother hated him and the sooner he had gotten out of her house, the better, she had never given it much thought. "I didn't. How do _you_ know?" Gabrielle looked intently, her mind ticking over. Zoe was too old for Jack to have gone to uni with her, and as far as she could figure, their paths wouldn't have otherwise crossed. "You were his doctor at one point," she surmised.

"That would be confidential," Zoe said with cool professionalism, having let slip too much already in her mistaken belief that Gabrielle knew more than she did.

"It was over our breakup, wasn't it?" Gabrielle asked. Of course. She had been an idiot to think a university like AUMEL would let a prize student like Jack defer for a year on such short notice _without_ a damn good reason. He had 'burnt out' enough to be hospitalised over it – enough that Zoe remembered him after all these years. "What do you know?" Gabrielle asked. "I could tell the board you breached doctor-patient confidentiality," she threatened.

Zoe knew it was an empty threat. Gabrielle wasn't about to do such a thing, and even if she did, she doubted Jack would be that pissed off about it. "I know about him and Bianca," she said. "Though I _don't_ know why he's not just telling everyone what her problem is. People are always much more inclined to see the woman as the slut in the story – believe me, I know," she said ruefully, although in this case, Bianca really _was_ to blame. "I know he was devastated after you broke up with him. And I know he still cares about you," she added. "I don't even have to know anything about him other than the way he was looking at you at Cougars last night. Or that little interaction between him and Doctor Grey last night. What does it say to you that he'll let Bianca badmouth him all over town, but all she has to do is say something mean to you and he's on the warpath? I take it he didn't just drop you home last night?" Zoe asked.

"Not exactly," Gabrielle admitted. It pleased her more than she cared to admit to hear from someone who had known Jack at the time – someone other than Jane, who she could never quite trust – was telling her how sorry Jack had been, and how much he still cared about her.

"I thought so." Zoe even seemed to know that their liaison had been limited to a few kisses at the front door; a limitation that she had placed. "I know that sometimes once the trust is gone, it's gone," she said, thinking about her own infidelity. But that had been different; it had been a full-blown affair, not a drunk indiscretion, and her husband had been too macho to ever get over it. "But is there any possibility that you could learn to trust him again?"

"I want to," Gabrielle admitted.

"Then at least give him a chance. Will a date really kill you? Or, for that matter, just talking to him?"

The following day, Jack knocked on the door of the office Gabrielle shared with Frank. "I hear you and Zoe were talking," he said with a rueful grin. Zoe was almost as big an advocate of his and Gabrielle's reconciliation as Jane was – and Jane had good reason to see them reconciled.

"You have a fan in her," Gabrielle said.

"She was my doctor for a while, when I wasn't in the best of places," Jack said cautiously. "I think all doctors like seeing their patients happy, no matter how much time passes. I hope she didn't, uh, make you feel you had to feel a certain way."

"You mean you hope she wasn't pressuring me to go out with you?" Gabrielle offered. Jack smiled sheepishly. "It feels like I've met a million well-meaning people who think it's _so romantic_ that we were teenage sweethearts and want to see us back together – most of which I'm sure have never met either of us except in passing. At least Zoe and Doctor Grey know you well enough to have your best interest at heart." There was a lengthy paused and, grappling for something to talk about, she blurted out, "Zoe says you volunteer as a tutor."

"At White's Academy, yeah. Some of the kids are so bright but their parents can't afford the same advantages like tutors or internet access like the richer kids have. I like knowing I'm helping to bridge the wealth gap. Jane went there, you know, and we're hoping we can get Mary in. I wish I could have gone," he said wistfully.

"Between you and Charlotte, I'm sure you would have had a very smart baby," Gabrielle said. "You'd be like – who's that surgeon who never reconciled himself with his daughter becoming a nurse?"

"Richard Craig," Jack supplied. "And no. My step-mother resented me for being so smart and my dad resented me for not being interested in mechanics. I never want my kids to feel they have to be like me, either because they aren't smart enough or they just don't have the interest in medicine."

Gabrielle was pleased to hear that, although she couldn't quite leave it there. "What if you had a kid with a severe disability?" she asked. "Like Downs Syndrome?"

"Kathleen Campion – Frank's daughter – has Downs and he doesn't love her any less for it," Jack said. "If I could have my daughter with Charlotte on the condition that she had Downs, or spina bifida, or anything like that – I wouldn't hesitate in saying yes, and anyone who would say no doesn't deserve to be a parent, in my opinion." He spoke the words with quiet, intense sincerity that made Gabrielle shiver. "It's not exactly a pleasant subject, why do you ask?" Jack asked.

"No reason," she forced herself to say. If he didn't care about Downs or spina bifida, then why would he care about ADHD and less-than-average intelligence? "Look, about Bianca – was she really the only one? And the only time?"

"Yes," Jack said, thinking it wasn't _that_ much of a lie. She had been the only one, _that_ was the truth, and there wasn't much difference between once and twice, so that wasn't much of a lie, was it? And something told him that Gabrielle wasn't the type to accept that he had gone back to her after having sex with someone else. _One_ drunk indiscretion she might be able to forgive, but two? "It was just her and only once and I haven't regretted anything more in my life. And if it's worth anything to you, there wasn't anyone else for months and months after we broke up – I didn't want that on my conscience in case you took me back – and there hasn't been anyone since you started working here, everyone else paled in comparison to you."

Gabrielle let Jack's words sink in. She believed him. "Look, about Tuesday night – "

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "You were drunk and I was so desperate to get close to you that I overlooked it. But for what it's worth, I don't think you can deny that we have chemistry and I'd love to take you out properly. Dinner and there's this comedy show that my sister keeps raving about and – have you seen the harbour yet? Lake Burley-Griffin has _nothing_ on it at night."

"I'd like that," Gabrielle said shyly.

"Really?" Jack asked, scarcely able to believe that she had said yes, after all this time.

"Really," she repeated.

"Really? Oh, wow," he said, and without thinking, leaned in to kiss her. It was meant to be a quick peck on the lips, but the moment their lips touched, it was like bringing two magnets close to each other and expecting them not to snap together. It was a law of gravity, and she opened her mouth to welcome his kiss, meeting his tongue with hers, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Gabrielle," he whispered huskily. This was _so_ much better without her tasting like beer, and knowing that she was perfectly sober, and he wasn't glad that he hadn't pushed things on Tuesday night.

"Jack," she whispered back, running her hands down his back, feeling him arch his body involuntarily, the muscles clenching and relaxing under his touch. "Jack."

The door swung open and Jack pulled away. It wasn't like they were doing anything, just kissing, and God knew, Frank had busted him kissing his staff enough times that the fear had receded, but still, there was something special about what he had with Gabrielle that he didn't want witnesses to it. Especially not witnesses that they worked with.

Especially not Bianca.

Bianca scowled when she saw what she had interrupted. She had heard all about Jack and Jane's little stunt at Cougars on Tuesday night. Without saying a word against her, they had made it clear that she wasn't someone they cared to associate with. The very fact they hadn't explained _why_ they didn't care to associate with her meant that people talked about it even more. And there were plenty of people to talk about how Jack hadn't been able to keep his eyes of Gabrielle – or his hands. Or the fact that he had insisted on taking her home.

Bianca had fumed when she had heard that. That plain little thing who wasn't smart enough to get into medical school, let alone AUMEL – what the hell did Jack see in her? Was it simply that she had rejected him, making her more desirable? Did Jack not want her because she had been too forward? Did the hypocrite see nothing wrong with _men_ indulging sexually but everything wrong with women doing the same thing.

_Bastard. Bastard. Bastard_. But she still wanted him, and failing that, she definitely didn't want Gabrielle to have him. _Bitch. Bitch. Bitch_. And now seeing them, seeing the way he touched her, seeing the way he _looked_ at her, like he had never stopped being in love with her, made Bianca's insides curdle with jealousy and hatred. "I was looking for Frank," she said coolly.

Gabrielle felt the hatred in her glare, the contempt in her sneer, and shivered slightly. But Jack relished it. She was slipping, he knew. Her only advantage had lain in not pushing Jack or Jane so far that they spoke out against her, and she had been stupid enough to push them. "He's not here," Jack replied, just as coolly. He instinctively brought his arm around Gabrielle's back, wanting to protect, or at least reassure her, enjoying the way it made Bianca's scowl deepen.

Bianca flounced off. "I don't like her," Gabrielle admitted.

Jack laughed dryly. Only Gabrielle could walk in on her boyfriend screwing another woman, have that other woman use her power and considerable intellect to make her miserable several years later, and say she didn't like her. "If it makes you feel better, she must be miserable if she's being such a bitch to you. Happy people tend not to go out of their way to make others unhappy."

"But what's she got to be unhappy about?" Gabrielle asked, genuinely perplexed. "She's gorgeous, brilliant – "

"And bitter as a lemon. I think it's something to do with her childhood. Her dad wasn't around much and she never forgave the world for it. Jane says we had a lot in common growing up."

"You're kidding me."

"We both had jerks for dads, both had no-one but ourselves to get us to uni. The difference is she at least had a mum who loved her. And she's still a first-class bitch. Some of us are just made that way, I guess, but at the end of the day, I feel sorry for hers. She can't be happy."

Gabrielle let that information sink in. Jack felt sorry for Bianca, even though their drunk indiscretion – the one she had instigated – had cost him his relationship with Gabrielle and sent him spiralling down far enough to be hospitalised. That said a lot about him. So did the fact they he and Bianca had come from similar childhoods... but Jack's had been worse and he still had the good grace not to blame the world about it.

She found herself impressed with this new insight of him.

* * *

"Gabrielle, if I promise not to seduce you, will you let me come in?" Jack asked. "I'm too old and too tall to do this in the back of my car."

It had been a wonderful date. He had taken her, as promised, out for a wonderful meal – even better than the one he had taken to on their first date, all those years ago – and then to a very funny improve comedy show that had made her peal with laughter, and then for a walk along the foreshore which was, as he had promised, much prettier than lake Burley-Griffin.

She couldn't remember a more enjoyable night.

And now they were in the back of his car, making out, and he wanted to come inside. She believed him that he wouldn't try to seduce her, but she couldn't let him in the house just yet. She couldn't introduce him to Ben like this. _Thanks for the great night, and, by the way, this is your five-year-old son. Kinda slipped my mind to tell you, sorry about that_. She wasn't sure exactly how she would go about telling Jack about Ben, only that she couldn't tell him _just yet_. "I think we should call it a night," she said huskily. "Before things go too far."

Obediently, Jack pulled away. He knew she was attracted to him, knew she wanted him – but didn't want to seduce her into doing something she wasn't quite ready to do. When they went to bed together, he wanted it to be because she wanted it with her heart and soul and not because she was hot and heavy after making out with him. He walked her to her door and gave her a chaste kiss goodnight. "I'll see you tomorrow at work," he said huskily, and she squirmed with pleasure.

"How was it?" Julia asked, although the look on Gabrielle's face was all she needed to know. "That good, huh? So you trust him?"

"Yeah," Gabrielle said, "I do. I believe him when he said it was only one time, and that he's regretted it ever since." And just as importantly, she believed that he felt sorry for Bianca, and that he wouldn't be bothered by his son not being as smart as he was.

Jack got home in a jubilant mood – the home he shared with Dan, as opposed to Jane's where he had been crashing for the last few weeks. Everything felt right with the world. He couldn't believe how much of his life had been missing without Gabrielle. Whatever he had felt about other women in his life since her, none of them had made him feel the way she did. A piece of his life had been missing that had slotted perfectly into place.

He had seen as soon as he drove in that Bianca was over – and parked in his spot, too. He thought about parking behind her, like he had once when he'd had the next day off and then had gotten Rebecca to pick him up and go out on the town, leaving Bianca parked in until he felt the desire to go home, but tonight, he wanted her away from his house, and wasn't about to do anything that would give her reason to linger.

He banged on Dan's door, not caring if he pissed both of them off in the process. Bianca had pissed _him_ off – not to mention Gabrielle and Jane – plenty of times in the last month, and Dan should have been less selfish in having her over all the time. "Doctor Miller!" he yelled through the door, enjoying using her maiden name – and reminding Dan that she was married. He made a face at that, wondering what Dan saw in her that he was willing to overlook her vows. She wasn't _that_ good in bed. "I want to sleep in my own bed tonight so _get the fuck out of my house_."

It felt good to say those words; he couldn't believe he hadn't thought to say them before. Oh, yeah, because he had wanted to protect Gabrielle, and he had thought that Bianca had enough self-preservation to understand the phrase _don't talk shit about her and I won't talk shit about you_. Well, the stupid woman was too angry at him to demonstrate common sense, and she would find out to her detriment just how pissed off Jack could get.

He banged on the door again. "Daniel!" he yelled. "I can stay out here all night." And he meant it. He was in a fighting mood. He felt invigorated. He had spent far too much time being nice, he thought, trying to deal with someone who was basically a bully in the last way you should deal with a bully – supplication.

A second later the door opened. "What?" Dan hissed, "are you doing?"

"Politely asking you to get rid of her so I can get some sleep. I'm tired of staying at Jane's because you want to avoid _Doctor Miller's husband_." Jack spoke the words with relish, taking perverse pleasure at watching Dan flinch at the bald way her referred to Bianca's marital situation.

"Someone clearly didn't get laid," Bianca said snippily, coming up behind Dan. "You jealous?"

"Of Dan?" Jack said sweetly. "I wasn't _that_ drunk that I don't remember you're nothing to be jealous of."

Dan took a deep breath in. "_What?_" he asked. But he could tell by the way Bianca was bridling at the insult that Jack was speaking the truth. He turned to her. "You and _Jack_?" he asked. "When?" But the pieces were already falling together. They had been at uni together along with Jane Grey, so it would have been then. Had Bianca been the woman Jack had cheated on Gabrielle with? She _was_, Dan realised.

"My nineteenth," Jack replied to Dan pleasantly like they were talking about something pleasant and not something Jack had referred to as one of the biggest mistakes of his life. "I was _really_ drunk... but not _that_ drunk," he added, enjoying the way Bianca was spitting at him with her eyes. "You still don't get it, do you?" he asked, turning his attention to Bianca. "I never cared about you. I can't. How can anyone? You're the most selfish, spiteful person I ever met – and given my father is an alcoholic womaniser, that's quite a call – and it _killed_ you that I'd rather be with Gabrielle, didn't it?" He was taunting her now, and enjoying it. It felt good to have the upper hand on her. "You know what? I had more fun with her _not_ having sex with her than I ever did being with a metre of _you_."

Dan was surprised – and disgusted – to see how angry Bianca was at the force of Jack's rejection. "Fuck you," she spat.

"No, thankyou," Jack said cheerfully. "I _like_ not having syphilis." And with that he walked off.

Dan turned to Bianca. "How much of that was true?" he asked coolly. Bianca was shaking with fury at the way Jack had just spoken to her, like – like – like she wasn't his boss – like she was some tramp he had discarded. "_Did_ he cheat on Gabrielle with you?" Dan pressed. He didn't need Bianca to reply. "You manipulative _slut_," he hissed at her. "What, so all of this – was it just to get back at Jack?"

"No, of course not."

Maybe it hadn't been – not all of it. But she had been gunning for Jack, and Gabrielle, from day one. Come to think of it, she hadn't gotten along with _anyone_ but him. Was she still carrying her resentment of Jack for rejecting her? She had to be; nothing else made sense. "You should leave," Dan said flatly.

She held out her arms to him. "You aren't seriously going to believe him, are you?" she asked indignantly.

He thought about how he had banished Jack to Jane's place so he could have Bianca over; how neither of them had said a word against Bianca, while Bianca had shot her mouth off against them. Jack had made some bad choices in the past, but Dan had never known him to be anything but honest and well-intentioned. Which was a lot more than could be said for Bianca. "Yeah, I am," he said. "And you know what? If I were you, I would stop needling Jack, He's not someone you want to cross when it comes to someone they care about... and I don't think he's ever stopped caring about Gabrielle. See yourself out," he said, walking away from Bianca.

He headed for Jack's room. He was sitting on his bed, a book resting on his lap and a beer on the dresser, and Dan remembered how he had let Bianca help herself to Jack's beer and go through his books so Jack had installed a bar fridge and moved everything into his room and installed a lock on the door. He really should have remembered how private Jack was, and how anal he was about his stuff being respected as his stuff, except it was so easy to forget when Bianca was making fun of Jack.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dan asked.

"It didn't matter that she was married, so why would it have mattered that I'd slept with her?" Jack asked with cool logic.

Dan cringed. The difference was, of course, that having her in common with some faceless husband was a hell of a lot different to having her in common with his housemate, but you couldn't exactly try and argue that something that had happened years ago was worse than the fact she was married. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have made you feel unwelcome. I shouldn't have made you feel you couldn't be honest."

Jack shrugged. "I'm kind of used to Bianca being a cunt," he said, which shocked Dan in itself, because it was a word he tended to reserve for his step-mother. "She's spent the last four years telling everyone who knows Jane and I that I'm Mary's father. Not that I mind exactly, but it's just the kind of person she is."

"_Why?_"

"Jane knew her better than I did. Actually reckons we have a lot in common – she grew up about three blocks from me. Bianca, I mean. Her dad played around a lot, too, and left her mum when she was about ten, I think. Jane's theory is that it made her bitter and entitled."

"You're not."

"I saw what dad's behaviour did to Stella. She was a bitch, but no-one deserves to be treated like that. When I think about what I put Gabrielle through... but some people don't think like that."

_Some people try and stop the cycle, and some people repeat it_, Dan thought, feeling a wave of disgust with himself. Jesus Christ, what had he been thinking? "Sorry," he said again.

Jack smiled ruefully. "I've been far more inconvenienced in my life than having to stay with a friend so my would-be best friend could get laid." He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Dan, who was looking very forlorn. "You want a beer?" he asked.

"I'd love one."

Jack gestured in the direction of his desk, which meant for Dan to pull up the chair. Dan pulled it close to Jack's bed and helped himself to a beer, making a mental note to buy him a carton to make up for what Bianca had helped herself to... and the aggro she had caused him. "Things went well with Gabrielle, then?" Dan asked. For him to be so forgiving about Bianca, let alone letting him in his room – Jack was deeply private, and letting someone into his room was as open as he got. Things _had_ to have gone well for him to be this easy-going.

"Yeah, they did. I think she wanted to invite me inside but she didn't entirely trust me not to seduce her."

"You can't exactly blame the girl, Jack," Dan pointed out. He didn't have a good reputation with women, either in general or with Gabrielle.

"I don't. I can wait until she's ready."

Despite his resolution to treat Jack better, Dan snorted derisively at that. "You, wait?" he asked. "When was the last time you let something go to a second date without getting laid?" he asked. After all, this was a man who, in absolute seriousness, had declared that there was no point in organising a second date if you didn't know you were sexually compatible.

"I screwed things up with her the first time 'cos I couldn't wait."

"Huh?"

Jack realised he had only told Dan about the second time he had been with Bianca – the time he had been caught. "Never mind," he said. No point in giving a juicy titbit of information like that to Dan. "I screwed things up 'cos I was too full of myself to appreciate her. I'm not going to do that again. If she doesn't want to have sex with me yet, I'm not going to push her."

Dan took a sip of his beer. He had never expected to hear such a sentiment from Jack, but then, he had never expected to see him have such a connection with anyone.

* * *

Bianca let herself out of the house, shaking with fury. For Jack to interrupt them like that – to tell Dan all about them – to be all but thrown out of the house. Worse than that – for Dan to just walk away, like he didn't care anymore.

It was just one more thing Jack had taken from her.

Well, she would return the favour.

She made her way to the ED the next day and sauntered into the office Gabrielle shared with Frank like she shared it with them. "I hear you had a hot date last night," she cooed.

"None of your business," Gabrielle said coolly.

Bianca took note of the marks on her neck that weren't covered by her uniform shirt, and her eyes narrowed jealously. Jack had touched her intimately. She wondered if they had slept together, whatever he had said. "It doesn't bother you? About us, you mean?"

"Bianca, I may be an inexperienced country girl, but even _I_ know that one night doesn't count as an 'us'."

Bianca smiled with sweet venom. "Two," she corrected.

"Sorry?"

"Two nights. It was _two_ nights."

Gabrielle tried not to look affected, tried to remain calm, tried to tell herself that Bianca was just trying to rile her up. "It's not something I'm ever going to forget," she said honestly, because no matter how much she trusted Jack now, it wasn't exactly something you could forget. "It was Jack's twentieth."

"That was the _second_ time," Bianca said, drawing out her words with calculated cruelty. "Do you remember New Years?"

Gabrielle felt her heart stop. Yes, she remembered that New Years. All too well, when Jack had gotten her drunk and tried to have sex with her like – well, the horny teenager that he was. She had walked out on him before the new year had ticked over... and with a sickening feeling in her stomach, it occurred to her six plus years later that maybe Jack, being a drunk, horny teenager, had simply found someone else to accommodate his desires.

Bianca watched Gabrielle's expression change with fascination. She had to have her suspicions – now at least, even if her seventeen-year-old mind had been too naive to think of it. "He never told you about that, did he?" Bianca crowed. "You really weren't very smart, you know, holding out on him like that. He was a man, and he needed a real woman – someone who was willing to satisfy him. I mean, why do you think he got bored of you? 'Cos you were so boring – not to mention completely inept in bed. Christ, I'm surprised it took him that long to cheat on you again."

"You're lying," Gabrielle said through gritted teeth. Jack had promised, _promised_ that it had only been the one time; he had known how important it was to be honest with her. She didn't know what was worse, the thought that he had slept with Bianca and then gone back to her – or the thought that he had lied about it. No, it couldn't be true.

"Ask him yourself," Bianca said airily, and walked off, the damage done.

Later that day, Jack knocked on the door. "You've been asking to see me?" he asked.

"Shut the door," Gabrielle said. Jack shut it, and he went to kiss her. She pushed him away. "I need to ask you something," she said. "That New Years party you had – when we had the fight over sex and I walked out. Did you have sex with Bianca?"

"What?" Jack asked, suddenly numb with fear. Of course, he should have realised that Bianca would tell Gabrielle about New Years.

Gabrielle took note of the fact that he hadn't denied it. "New Years. Did you have sex with her."

"Did she tell you that?"

That was the second time she had avoided answering her. "_Did_ you?" The look on Jack's face was all the answer she needed, and she felt the anguish of betrayal and humiliation fill up in her like she was witnessing it all over again.

Jack watched her face crumble and knew he was breaking her heart all over again. "I wanted to tell you, but I was scared you couldn't forgive me."

"What, so you thought you just wouldn't tell me – Jesus Christ, Jack, you had _sex_ with her and then you came back to me and had sex with _me_ like nothing had ever happened."

"I wanted to pretend like it hadn't happened! I felt awful and I didn't want you to know about that part of me. I wanted – you'd look at me like I was this awesome guy and I didn't want you to stop looking at me like that."

"What, so you lied instead?"

"I didn't lie!"

"Neglecting to tell your girlfriend that you had sex with someone else is lying by omission, Jack." She raked her fingers through her hair, seeing Jack with completely different eyes. The man who she had made out with last night was a cheater and a liar. "Get out, you disgust me," she spat at him.

"You're breaking up with me?" he asked.

"Oh, one date does not make a relationship, Jack, especially not one that was obtained through lies."

"I did not – "

"Shut up!" she screamed at him. "Just – _shut – up_! Get out of my sight! I don't want to see you again! If you touch me again I'll have you charged with assault. _You – disgust – me_. I hate you! I hate you! I hate–"

Jack silenced her by grabbing her roughly and mashing his mouth against hers with violence which would have scared him if he wasn't so single-minded in wanting to prove that she wanted him – and that if she wanted him, she couldn't hate him or be disgusted by him all that much. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she kissed him back just as hungrily, knowing that what she was doing was wrong and also knowing that nothing had ever felt so good as being with Jack... even when Jack was bad for her.

He grabbed her hips and hoisted her onto the table, wedging his hand between her thighs, using his thigh to wedge open her knees, feeling her wrap her legs around his waist. He pulled impatiently at the buttons on her shirt, opening it up, pushing it down over her shoulders, revealing her bra. "Do you want me?" he asked gutturally.

"Yes," she said.

"Say it!"

"I want you!" she screamed at him, hating herself for still being so attracted to him despite everything he'd done, and hating him for using that against her.

"Good girl," he grunted triumphantly. Maybe now she knew what it felt like to be him, wanting her constantly. He shuddered as she brought her hands under his shirt, her fingers splayed across the bare skin of his chest. How had he ever stopped at making out last night? "Baby, baby, baby," he cried. He remembered their first time together, at Lake Burley-Griffin. He'd never waited so long for someone, or wanted them that much.

Until now.

"Frank, I – oh, shit, sorry," Bart said, walking in on them in his search for his mentor. He backed out of the room, embarrassed.

Gabrielle jumped down from the table and turned so her back was to Jack and started doing up her shirt again. Even with her back turned, Jack could tell how tense she was. He saw her tremble, and knew she was close to tears. "Hey," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, a gentleness in his touch and his tone that belied for the hungry, frenzied passion they'd demonstrated seconds ago. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, us being attracted to each other."

Her shirt done up, she spun around to face him, tears in her eyes. "But I _am _ashamed, Jack. I'm ashamed that after everything you did to me, I'm still attracted to you. I want something more than someone who's going to cheat on me and lie to me."

"It was one – _two_ times," Jack said, correcting himself, knowing he wasn't making his case any better. "I figured it didn't count."

"Of course it fucking counts. Jack, I _asked_ you if that was all it was. You looked me in the eyes and swore that it was. How the hell am I supposed to trust anything you say now?"

He tried to take her hand, but she wrenched it away from him and backed away as best she could given that she was already backed against the desk. It pained him to see her twisted awkwardly against it to get away from him, so he took a step back. "Please," he begged. "Last night was the happiest I've been in years." _And I screwed it up by needling Bianca_. But Bianca would have told Gabrielle anyway, he realised dully. She was that kind of person.

"If you touch me again I'll complain to admin," Gabrielle said dully. "I don't care if I – _want_ – you or not." She said the word _want_ with contempt, like she was admitting being attracted to a snake. Which was close enough to what she thought of Jack right now anyway. "I don't want anything to do with you." For a second Jack just stared at her, willing her to change her mind. "_Get out!_" she screamed, and this time Jack didn't doubt that she would complain if he touched her.

He left.

Gabrielle picked Ben up from daycare at the end of the day, still shaking from her meeting with Jack. She didn't know what was worse, that he had lied to her or that she was still attracted to him – or that if they hadn't been interrupted, she would have had sex with him on her desk like some tramp.

Like Bianca Miller bent over the table.

Ben was, as usual, noncommunicative, and for once, she was relieved. She was in no mood to talk to him, let alone try to bring him out of his shell. Tonight, Ben was just one more reminder of how Jack had screwed up his life because he was a selfish, lying, horny _jerk_.

Ben, however, seemed particularly in tune with her mood and wasn't nearly as troublesome as he usually was. Gabrielle knew she should be grateful, but she couldn't help but feel anything other than resentment tonight. Especially when Ben looked at her with those green-grey eyes.

12


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_Hey guys! Ben's age is about six by this point, but out of habit I've jumped between five and six – hopefully that explains any confusion. And for those of you who recognise the book – I couldn't find the first one, so I had to make do with the second._

"He's doing the same thing he does whenever a relationship ends. He hits the bars. He thinks Rebecca and I don't know how to compare notes," Dan said when Zoe asked him how Jack was doing following his second break-up with Gabrielle. Not that one date constituted a relationship, exactly, but she'd had such high hopes for them. It was obvious they shared something pretty special, and that he had finally regained her trust. A trust he had blown when she'd found out he had cheated on her twice instead of the once he had sworn black and blue over.

He had repaid Bianca by resorting to her tactics and then some, telling anyone who would listen that she had pestered him like an infatuated schoolgirl, that he'd slept with her once because he'd been bored and horny, that she couldn't take no for an answer – by the time he was done, Bianca had thought it was best to find a job elsewhere. She had banked on the fact Jack was too mild-mannered to resort to her own tactics, as opposed to trying to protect Gabrielle, and when he turned the tables on her – well, men could get away with far more than women when it came to sex.

"And no-one's tried to talk to him?" Zoe asked.

Dan laughed at that. "You, you clearly don't know Jack," he said derisively. "The only person who ever managed to put the brakes on his sleeping around was Jane, and she only ever says something if it's affecting Mary. I heard she once refused to let him see her for three months when he used her to get women's phone numbers." Dan said this with a touch of envy in his voice, either because he didn't have access to a gorgeous women-magnet like Mary Grey or that he hadn't thought of such a women-attracting scam in the first place. "Why, has he said something?" Dan asked, more out of polite curiosity than anything, because Jack and Zoe hadn't struck him as being super-pally.

"No, I'm just a little worried about him. Things seemed to be going so well between him and Gabrielle."

"He'll get over it. He always does."

"He's done this before?"

"Couldn't tell you for certain. But there was him and Charlotte, and a few things Jane's said. All I know is he's going out a lot and telling me he's going out with his sister, and telling Rebecca he's doing stuff with me. I personally don't give a shit if he wants to sleep around, I just wish he'd be upfront. And it'd give me peace of mind if I knew he was protecting himself."

"That's not something you need to worry about," Zoe said before she had thought about it.

"I'm sorry?"

"I've met plenty of guys like Jack before. They're such control freaks, they won't trust anyone but themselves when it comes to STDs or birth control."

Dan laughed at that. That was _so_ Jack.

Zoe caught up with Jack the next day and asked how he was doing. "Fine," he grunted in his most unwelcome tone. He had known Zoe would be having a word with him eventually. Well, it was none of her goddamn business. He wasn't her patient anymore.

"Dan said you've hardly been home since you and Gabrielle broke up. And that you do actually have a sister from Bondi," she added, trying to lighten the mood.

Jack couldn't help but smile at the memory of Jane attempting to convince Zoe that, despite looking nothing alike, not having the same name and sounding like they came from opposite socioeconomic areas, she was his sister – and the irony that he did actually have a half-sister from a privileged background that he didn't share a last name with. "Bec's a good kid," he said approvingly.

"Who has no idea what you're up to," Zoe prodded gently.

Jack gnashed his teeth. "Lay off me, OK. She's only seventeen. If I don't want to talk to her, I don't have to."

"But you should talk to _someone_," Zoe pressed. "I'm worried about you, Jack. I saw what happened the last time you and Gabrielle broke up."

"I'm not about to slit my wrists, if that's what you mean," Jack said testily. It wasn't something he cared to talk about – ever – even if it needed to be talked about. But he realised Zoe was trying to do the right thing by her, no matter how intrusive she might be being. "Look, what I did then? It wasn't just Gabrielle. It was finding out I had syphilis. You can't know how much that reminded me of _him_ and what he did to me. And I'm not about to let someone do that to me again. You can tell Dan I've been using condoms."

"That's a relief," Zoe said dryly.

"Besides, there's Mary. If something happens to me – if I do something to _myself_ – that's someone she doesn't have in her life. You know, sometimes I look at her and I think she's the one good thing I ever managed to do."

"She really means that much to you?"

"Yeah, she does. I'd adopt her if it wasn't a legal nightmare."

Zoe laughed. It was obvious that Jack had already looked into it. Suddenly she felt a lot more secure in the stability of Jack's mental health. Sleeping around was hardly the most healthy way of dealing with a breakup, but Mary was a strong anchor in his life. Which made Charlotte's miscarriage an ever greater tragedy. Jack would have made a great dad.

"Hello, stranger," Zoe said a few days later when Jack made an appearance in the ED. "Long time, no see."

"Gabrielle's at some conference thing for NUMs in the city all day, it's safe for me to show my head," Jack said wryly. The truth was, he didn't feel comfortable around Gabrielle. He wanted her, and he knew she wanted him – physically. But she had made it clear he disgusted her and wanted nothing to do with him, and so he figured it was best if he made himself scarce around the ED. But Gabrielle was out for the day, so he was safe. "Anything interesting?" he asked.

"The usual," Zoe said. MVAs, domestics, drunk and disorderly behaviour, hypochondriacs who mistook a cold with bird flu – all in a day's work at a major urban ED.

Late in the morning there was a knock on the triage windows that Erica was manning. A frazzled woman in her late twenties had a boy of five or six, squirming and lashing out. "Hi," she said, frazzled. "I'm after Gabrielle Jaeger."

"She's out for the day," Erica said pleasantly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I need Gabrielle. Can you tell me where she is?" Erica shook her head and repeated her statement. The woman looked even more frazzled. "Her _son_," she said through gritted teeth, as if the boy was the spawn of Satan and not the Nursing Unit Manager, "can't follow orders. Climbed up on a display at SciTech and of _course_ fell down. I think he's off his meds."

"I'm sorry?" Erica asked, dumbfounded. _Son? Meds?_ This was the first she – or anyone, she assumed – had heard of Gabrielle having a son. "Uh, come through," she said, pushing the button to open the doors into the ED. "Uh, Sean?" she asked, searching for the nearest doctor to dump the problem on. "Gabrielle's son, uh – "

"Ben," the woman offered. "And I'm Taylor."

"Gabrielle's son Ben," Erica said.

Sean went bug-eyed, as surprised as Erica to hear that Gabrielle had a son. "Hi," Sean said, walking up to the boy. "I'm Sean." He went to make eye contact with Ben, and Ben responded by kicking him in the shins. His eyes blazed green with fury at being misunderstood, and in that moment, there was no denying whose son he was, even if they _hadn't_ been aware of the history between Jack and Gabrielle. "Woah," Sean and Erica said at the same time.

The next thing Sean noticed was a bad gash on Ben's forehead, presumably where he had fallen. "That looks nasty," he said. "You should let me take a look at that." He went to touch Ben, and Ben backed away, growling and baring his teeth.

"He's always been like that, an angry little brat," Taylor said, and it was obvious she had dealt with this before. "I don't know what Gabrielle was thinking, taking him off his meds."

"Meds?" Sean asked.

"For ADHD. He's the most antisocial, uncooperative brat you ever met without them. Not that he's much to write home about _with_ them," Taylor added with a judgemental sniff, not caring in the least that Ben was in such close hearing range of her. "Do what the doctor says, you stupid brat," she growled at Ben. "He's trying to help you." Ben just backed away as much as he could given Taylor had a tight grip on his upper arm, and growled again when Sean tried to touch him again. "You _brat_!" Taylor screamed at him, and struck him hard, making it clear where Ben's reluctance to have people touch him came from.

Jack came barrelling across the ED from his conversation with Zoe and scooped Ben up in his arms. He stared down Taylor, green eyes blazing with fury at his son being manhandled like that. "You touch my son again, and I will have you fired," he growled in a way that was remarkably similar to the way Ben had growled at Sean moments before. And he carried Ben into the nearest empty cubicle.

He sat the boy down on the bed with more gentleness than he handled Mary, who was two years younger and a much smaller girl. For a few seconds, he looked at Ben, marvelling at how much the boy looked like him. There was no denying he was his son.

And yet Gabrielle _had_ denied it. At least by omission. And she'd had a go at _him_ for not telling her about Bianca? Exactly which was the bigger lie of omission? "Hi," he said, worried he'd get the same reception as Sean – a kick in the shins. Which, given Ben was sitting at about waist-height to Jack, was more likely to be a kick in the groin. "That's quite a cut you've got. How did you do it?"

Ben wasn't used to adults being interested in him beyond infantilising him, and he eyed Jack warily. "I wanted to see how the chair worked," he said.

"What chair?"

"At SciTech. You can lift yourself up in it. I wanted to see how it worked. I climbed to the top where the weights are and I fell."

Made perfect sense to Jack, who had been smarter than his brothers when he had been about Ben's age, and they had been three and five years older than him. "It's a pulley system," he said. "So you can lift far more than your strength would usually allow. It's thought that's how they built the pyramids in Egypt."

Encouraged by Jack's answer, Ben said, "I didn't mean to get into trouble. I just wanted to know how it worked. No-one understands."

"I might," Jack said. "When I was a kid I was really smart for my age, and my step-mum used to think I was causing trouble when I just wanted to know how things worked. That, and I think she was jealous that I was smarter than her sons." He saw Ben's eyes fade to an aqua as he processed the information – and the knowledge that Jack understood him. He pressed against Ben's forehead and Ben yelped in pain. "Sorry," he said. "I want to get some x-rays done."

"How do they work?" Ben asked.

"We use x-rays to penetrate soft tissue..." Jack explained, taking Ben's hand and leading him to radiology.

"What," Sean asked in wonderment, watching the two, "the _fuck_ is going on?"

"I'd have thought it was obvious," Zoe said dryly, almost as stunned as Sean and Erica.

"Did you know about this?" Sean asked, because Jack and Zoe seemed to have some kind of history, and if anyone – other than Jane Grey, that was – would know about something like this, it would be Zoe.

"Of course I didn't. And I highly doubt Jack – or Jane – knew about it, either." Still, the way he had responded to Ben was phenomenal, almost as if he _had_ known. If it wasn't for the second of confusion on his face before he had reacted like any parent would to Taylor striking Ben, Zoe would have been inclined to believe that he had known about the boy himself.

But he hadn't. For some reason Gabrielle had chosen not to say anything. How could she do that to him?

"I'm going to call Gabrielle," Sean said.

Zoe shot her arm hand out, grabbing Sean's arm. "No, you're not," she said with quiet firmness that belied the fact she had only been in the ED for a few weeks. "Leave him to it."

"Zoe, are you aware of the legal implications?" Sean asked. "I bet you ten to one he's not on the birth certificate. This means you're giving Jack carte blanche to take off with a child who was brought into our ward."

"Uh-huh," Zoe said, because legalities and birth certificates aside, Sean couldn't argue with the uncanny similarities between Jack and Ben. She turned to the childcare worker who had brought Ben in. "Taylor," she said. "Do you know when Ben was born?"

"Third of September, two-thousand," Taylor replied promptly. "And you're just going to let – _that man_ – take Ben?"

Zoe resisted the urge to laugh. Taylor clearly didn't like Ben, was probably in the wrong field – and was _now_ trying to act like a concerned child care worker? "We'll take full responsibility," Zoe said, ushering Taylor to the door. The last thing they needed was a meddling childcare worker who Ben was clearly intimidated by upsetting him – and, by extension, _Jack_.

"Well, that fits," Zoe said.

"Huh?" Sean and Erica asked in unison.

"I knew Jack briefly after he and Gabrielle broke up," Zoe said. "That was February two-thousand." She went to the phone at staff base and started dialling an internal number. A paediatrician would be really handy to have right now; especially one with as sterling a reputation as Jane Grey.

"Zoe wasn't kidding that he looks like you," Jane mused when she had seen Ben for himself. She was sorely tempted to bait Ben into different moods to see if his eyes changed colour the way Jack's did; Zoe had already assured her they went that emerald green when he was angry. "And smart, too. Way smarter than most six-year-olds. You must be proud."

"I would be, if I'd known of his existence for more than an hour," Jack growled. He couldn't blame Gabrielle for most of that – although he _could_ blame her father – as she hadn't known where he was. But since she had gotten here? Why the hell hadn't she been upfront with him? What kind of cruel person could listen to him talk about how much he wanted with kids, see how good he was with Mary – and say nothing?

She touched his arm gently. "Easy," she said. "There's plenty of time to hash it out with her later." Though personally, Jane would be hashing it out with Gabrielle over how medicated she had been keeping Ben, if it was _her_ kid.

Through devices that Jack wasn't sure he wanted to know about, Jane had gotten hold of Ben's medical records. It was a pet crusade of hers to roll back the use of ADHD medication on children, and Ben Jaeger was a shining example of why. He clearly had no trouble focusing his attention on something; Jack was keeping him well amused with an explanation into how everything worked that, while older than what you would expect of a six-year-old to understand, seemed at a perfect level for Ben. The child had no formal education but was clearly a quick study with the raw intelligence of someone at least a few years older – possibly more, if he was exposed to proper teaching and testing. "ADHD my ass," she muttered under her breath after watching Jack and Ben interact for a few minutes. "Ten bucks says no-one took the time to stop treating him like a two-year-old." He was clearly intellectually gifted, and had probably been treated like he had the intellect of someone half his age, when the truth was probably closer to double. _I'd get pretty cranky, too_. "It's obvious he didn't get his intelligence from those farm hicks," she said, remembering the nasty things she and Bianca had said about farmers behind Jack and Gabrielle's backs.

"Easy," Jack calmed her when he saw she was starting to get worked up on her favourite crusade. "I'm from city stock practically as far back as the First Fleet and my folks are as ignorant and mean as they come. Russel Jaeger's just ignorant."And even then, he had the excuse of not having access to a decent child psychologist – Jack wondered if they had psychologists at _all_. Speaking – or thinking – of which...

"Anne Humphries is pretty good," Jane offered, naming a child psychologist that she held in high regard. "And you'll have to work with Dale Henderson at some point." Henderson was the psychologist at White's Academy. "You think you can get him in for next year?"

"I'm going to do everything in my power," Jack said. Gabrielle, he had gleaned from Ben, didn't even _have_ him in school, not even kindy.

"I don't go to school," Ben had declared when Jack had asked him about it. "I go to daycare. Mum says I'm not ready."

"She said this to you?" Jack asked.

"She said it to my uncle."

"What, in front of you?" Jack asked, and Ben physically withdrew, as if he had been caught out at something naughty. "It's OK, you're not in trouble," Jack said. God, how many times had Ben gotten into trouble when his natural inquisitiveness had been mistaken for sheer, dumb brattiness? How many times had things like today happened, when his desire to learn how something worked come across as the actions of a child too stupid to obey orders? He wanted to embrace the child but was scared of frightening him. "I just want to know. I know your mum and she doesn't seem like someone who would say something like that in front of a person."

"She doesn't think I understand," Ben said.

Jack nodded understandingly. "And your medication?" he asked gently.

"It makes my head foggy. I don't like it. So I pretend to take it."

"Sounds like someone I know," Jane said. Jack swiftly kicked her in the shin, secretly pleased that at six, his son had the intelligence and good sense to stop taking something he knew wasn't right for him.

"Well, you don't have to take it any more if you don't want to," Jack said. "My friend here? She's a doctor of children. She's way smarter than any doctor you've had where you're from, and she tells parents what they should give their children and what they shouldn't. Parents listen to her."

"Yeah, or I call DOCS," Jane said, pleased with her joke. Jack shot her a filthy look; there was no telling exactly how much Ben understood, and he didn't want him going back to Gabrielle repeating Jane's comment about DOCS... especially since Jane was perfectly capable of reporting an over-medicated child to them.

"No more meds?" Ben asked.

"No more meds," Jack said.

Impulsively, Ben threw his arms Jack, and it was all Jack could do not to smother the boy with kisses. He had six years to make up for, and it was tempting to get started straight away. But he had to go easy. "I'm glad you're happy," he said thickly, fighting back tears. "Hey, how 'bout we go up to Jane's ward and find you a book? What do you like to read?"

Suddenly Ben withdrew and turned on his side away from Jack. Jack thought he knew what he had done wrong. If Gabrielle had thought Ben was intellectually delayed, then she never would have taught him how to read. "Can't you read?" he asked his son gently, already thinking of all the books he could introduce Ben to. Trouble was, between Mary Grey and Lucy Stevens-Sullivan, he was mostly familiar with young girl's books. He had no idea what a little boy might be interested in. "Hey," he said gently, pulling Ben around so he was facing him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of if you can't read."

"I can too read!" Ben yelled at him, and Jane immediately saw what Zoe had been talking about when those green eyes flashed in anger at being misunderstood. "I just don't like Spot!"

"Spot?" Jack asked. "You mean those dog books for babies?"

"I'm not a baby," Ben sniffled.

"I know you're not. That's why I was surprised. Is that what your mum reads to you?" Ben nodded morosely. "Well, why don't we go up to Jane's ward and we'll see if we can find you something better."

"Gabrielle is going to kill you," Sean said in a sing-song voice when he found out Zoe had 'let' – if that was the right word – Jack and Jane take Ben up to the paediatrics wards where they had a far better selection of children's books that could be found in the ED.

"Gabrielle's already going to kill me," Zoe said cheerfully. "At least this way Jack doesn't as well." Hell, with any luck, Jack would tie Gabrielle up with his fury and distract Gabrielle from being angry with Zoe. Zoe was itching to be a fly on the wall to hear _that_ conversation. No matter what had gone on between them, it wasn't right to keep a child from their parents, at least not when they were as natural a parent as Jack was.

Ben read slowly, unused to having such sophisticated fare to exercise his brain on, but still with more skill than most five-year-olds – especially five-year-olds whose mothers thought they were at _Spot_ level. Jack couldn't help but remember his own childhood, where his step-mother had been jealous of his intelligence, outshining her own sons when he had been five and they eight and ten. Well, this was where it ended with Ben. He wanted the boy to have access to whatever he needed, and the encouragement to learn whatever he wanted.

"_This must be a simply enormous wardrobe!" thought Lucy, going still further in and pushing the soft folds of the coat aside to make room for her. Then she noticed that there was something crunching under her feet. "I wonder is that more mothballs?" she thought, stooping down to feel it with her hand. But instead of feeling the hard, smooth wood of the floor of the wardrobe, she felt something soft and powdery and extremely cold. "This is very queer," she said, and went on a step or two further_.

"Jack?" Ben asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm tired. Can you read to me?"

"If that's what you want." Jack pulled Ben down so he was lying with his head in his lap. He remembered thinking about what it would feel like to hold his daughter with Charlotte, and all of a sudden, that felt like some nothing memory, an illusion against the flesh-and-blood experience of having _his son_ in his lap wanting to be read to.

_Next moment she found that what she was rubbing against her face and hands was no longer soft fur but something tough and even prickly. "Why, it's just like branches of trees!" exclaimed Lucy. And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off. Something cold and soft was falling on her. A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night-time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air_.

"Jack?" Ben interrupted sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"Are you my dad?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I heard you say before. You said – "

"Yeah. I remember. Yeah. I knew your mum a long time ago."

"Did you love her?"

"Yeah, I did. I didn't know about you, though. I wouldn't have left if I had."

That answer seemed to satisfy Ben. "Do I have to call you dad?" he asked uncertainly, because as fond as he already was of this man who understood him so well, it was such a monumental title to attach to someone.

"No if you don't want to," Jack forced himself to say, because right now, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more in the world. "Just... whenever it feels right for you."

Ben seemed satisfied with that answer, and wrapped his arms around Jack's legs in a childish gesture. Jack continued to read to him until he could tell by Ben's breathing that he was asleep, then he shrugged off his jacket and laid it over him, tilted his head back against the wall, and started to cry.

"Sorry," Zoe said with a light rap on the door. "Am I interrupting?"

Jack opened his eyes. "No, come in, just be quiet," he said. He grinned ruefully. "I can tell by his breathing that he's asleep. He's quite good at being deceptive for a six-year-old."

"So Jane said. She's in the ED, telling anyone who will listen that whoever diagnosed Ben with ADHD should be shot. I think she's being somewhat counter-productive, because it's just made everyone want to know what _she_ knows. I think you should marry that girl. Between doctor confidentiality and marriage privilege, you'll have it so neither of us call spill your secrets."

"I did actually propose to her once," Jack said, and told Zoe what had happened. "I think if I had been a little less in love with Gabrielle, she would have gone through with it. We would have made a good team."

"You still do." She glanced at the sleeping Ben, and the way Jack's fingers were curled through his hair. "How does it feel?" she asked.

"Surreal. He's heavy. In this wonderful, real way. I've held children his age and his size before, but he's different. He's _mine_, and that's like this bond that ties him to me." He glanced down at Ben for a second. "I don't blame Gabrielle for not being able to contact me. I made it so Patrick couldn't find me, and if a streetwise fucking predator can't find you, I don't expect a naive country girl to be able to. But I can't believe she didn't tell me the second she saw me. I had a fucking right to know."

It was a sign of how pissed off Jack was that he would swear, let alone around Ben. "How do you tell someone like that, Jack? Oh, by the way, here's your six-year-old son? You want to blame someone, blame her dad."

"I intend to." Jack's eyes glittered grey with the thought of battle. "Opening someone's mail is a federal offence. He tries to influence her against me in any way, and he's going to find out just how many friends I have in Canberra. Or DOCS," he added. Case workers loved Jane; she was considered a child-whispered, she could get a declaration of abuse out of the most intimidated of children. A word in the right direction about a certain child who had been chronically over-medicated and they might just start looking for alternate parenting arrangements for said child.

Zoe reached out for the book. "_Chronicles of Narnia_," she said. "A bit advanced."

Jack shrugged. "I was terrorising seven-year-olds with _Lord of the Flies_," he reminded her. "He can read it. And he understands it. I can't believe she was giving him _Spot_. What kind of parent mistakes advanced for stupid?"

Zoe smiled ruefully. Jane had said exactly the same thing. It didn't surprise her one whit that she was just as excited – and defensive – of Jack's advanced child as Jack was of hers. If Gabrielle wasn't careful, she was going to find herself left in the dust as the two of them planned for their two gifted children to be Rhodes scholars and get married and live happily ever after and give them equally gifted grandchildren. "The kind that don't have access to world-class testing facilities, even if it _does_ occour to them that their child might be the next Einstein. Don't go confusing the way Ben was raised with the way you were."

Jack tightened his grip on Ben's hair, and only relaxed it when the child whimpered in his sleep. "I know I can't stop people like Patrick running around," he said. "But I can at least stop Ben feeling like he has no-one to turn to. He will never feel unloved on my watch. What?" he asked when he saw Zoe shiver.

For a moment, she had been reminded of her own parents. Sometimes she missed them like she couldn't believe, "Nothing," she said. "Just sometimes I forget that you're younger than I am."

Jack smiled. It was an odd compliment, but he took it as one. "Thanks," he said. "I – " He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the door, and Zoe twisted around to see Gabrielle standing there.

"Give me back my son," she said in a dangerous voice.

Zoe could sense what would happen if the two were left to duke it out over Ben. "Why don't you two go talk," she suggested. "I'm sure Jane will loan you her office." Actually, she was just as sure that Jane had already installed a listening device. "I'll look after Ben."

"You sure?" they asked in unison, the most in sync that they had been since their Canberra days. The irony amused Zoe.

"I'm not Doctor Grey, but I _did_ have to do a paediatric rotation, I can look after a sleeping child," she said.

Jack eased himself out from under Ben without waking the boy up. He walked over to Gabrielle and placed his hand on her arm to lead her to Jane's office in a gentle gesture that Zoe knew was solely for her benefit.

The moment they were out of Zoe's line of sight he tightened his grip and dragged Gabrielle to the office, perversely hoping that it occurred to her he could find his way there in his sleep – God knew, he had spent more time there than he had in Gabrielle's, even counting all the time he had been in trouble with Frank. He hauled her into Jane's office, not particularly surprised that Jane wasn't there. "Let go of me!" Gabrielle hissed at him, a little frightened by just how angry he was.

Jack let go of her, then struck her hard. "You _bitch_," he spat at her. "You cruel, deceitful _bitch_. You – deprived me – of _six years_ of his life. Six years! You listened to me talk about wanting kids and how much Charlotte's miscarriage affected me and _you said nothing_. What, was that your idea of payback? I cheat on you so you deprive me of my _son_."

"Of course not! I had no idea where you were. I _tried_ to find you, Jack."

"And whose fault is that?" Jack asked bitterly. He knew he should be channelling his anger towards Russel, but when Gabrielle was in front of him, she was a handy target. "He doesn't know _anything_ about me. He wouldn't have recognised me from a bar of soap."

"Did you tell him who you were?" Gabrielle asked.

"Of course I did," Jack said, recalling how he'd felt when he'd seen Taylor strike Ben.

"You had no right."

"_Me_? _I_ had no right? _You_ kept him from me. _You_ thoroughly mismanaged his childhood. Do you realise how smart he is? Do you know how much potential he has?"

"You have no right to interfere with _my_ son," Gabrielle said.

"_My_ son," Jack countered.

Gabrielle stared at him resentfully, seeing the man who had broken her heart and made her a single mother at eighteen and was now trying to make good with Ben like the last seven years had never happened. "Take me to court then," she challenged, trying to walk past him.

Jack grabbed her arm, preventing her from leaving. "You can't stop me from seeing him," he said. "He's my son."

"Birth certificate doesn't say that," she challenged recklessly.

His grip tightened on her arm. "You wouldn't dare," he said coldly. The look in her eyes told him that he would. For a second, he thought about pleading with her, but he refused to give her the satisfaction. "Fine," he said. "See what DOCS has to say about it."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "You wouldn't dare," she said.

"Fucking watch me."

"Go to hell!" she yelled at him.

"You first!" he screamed back at her, watching her storm off. When she was gone, he closed his hand into a fist and slammed it into the wall.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?" Zoe asked a few minutes later. Gabrielle had returned demanding her son – it wasn't exactly something she could deny the mother – and Zoe had figured it was best to check on Jack, who had badly scraped and bruised his knuckles.

"She won't let me see Ben," Jack said dully. "She'll make me go to court. How can she do this to me? How can she – she was asking me questions about having kids before – she _knows_ how much it means to be. How can she possibly blame me for her not being able to get in touch with me?"

"Give her time," Zoe suggested.

"You don't know what he's gone through. I don't want him exposed to that any more. I don't – she can't put him through that. I can't put him through that anymore. I can't – I can't – Zoe, she can't take him from me again. She doesn't have the right."

"I know she doesn't." No need to tell him that Gabrielle held all the cars as she had never put Jack's name on the birth certificate; no doubt it had already occurred to him. "Give her time," she repeated. "She's been doing this alone for six years."

"I can't lose him," Jack repeated. He was close to tears, and Zoe forgot all about her comment that sometimes it was hard to remember that he was five years younger than her. Right now, he looked like he was twenty all over again.

8


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Ben was screaming, and had been for the last two days, almost nonstop. Occasionally he tired himself out for a few hours at a time, but the screaming would always start up again. In a moment of exasperation, Gabrielle was reminded of how much stamina Jack had. Then she hated Jack that little bit more for making her the single mother of a son who wouldn't stop screaming.

He wanted to see Jack. For the first time in his life, someone had truly understood him, and he wanted to see him again. This only served to make Gabrielle more resentful. If Jack had had to put up with Ben's behaviour day in and day out for the last six years, he wouldn't be so tolerant and indulgent of the boy.

He was refusing to take his meds, and there wasn't anything Gabrielle could do about it. She certainly didn't dare try forcing him, not after she'd had an informal visit from a social worker about possibly revisiting Ben's diagnosis. Damn Jane Grey, and damn Jack Quade. Jack had told him that he didn't have to take them, and Ben, it seemed, was pretty taken on that idea. Which was another black mark against Jack's name as far as Gabrielle was concerned. What the hell did he know about raising a troublesome child? Where the hell had he been the last six years?

Oh, that was right. Screwing around indiscriminately while she raised his son.

"Shut up!" she yelled at Ben as she tried to fix dinner – not that he would eat much of it. Anything he could get his hands on became something to throw at her. It was distressing to see him in such a state. So much so that if it was anything he wanted other than to see Jack, she would have given it to him in a heartbeat.

She was bitterly jealous of Jack. Everyone had said how Ben had just calmed right down in his arms and become an attentive, affectionate little boy. Like flicking a switch. Meanwhile, she got this monstrous brat who had never settled in her arms long enough to read to him. What the hell did Jack know about being a dad? It wasn't all cuddles and storytime.

Ben was pulling on her leg now. "Ben!" she yelled at him, not caring that she was frightening him. "Stop it! I'm trying to cool dinner!" But Ben kept pulling on her leg and wailing, and it didn't take too long before Gabrielle lost her balance and a pot full of boiling water and pasta went everywhere – a lot of it over Ben.

Now he _really_ started screaming. Gabrielle was horrified. "I'm so sorry, baby," she said, attempting to soothe her screaming son. "I'll take you to hospital."

There were the magic words. Even though he had to be in pain, the thought of going to hospital quietened him down immediately. Or at least, the thought of one particular hospital. "All Saints?" he asked.

Gabrielle hated Jack at that moment. Ben wouldn't be behaving like this if Jack hadn't won him over the way he had. "Yes, All Saints," she said through gritted teeth.

He was surprisingly calm the car trip there, then immediately started screaming again when he was told Jack wasn't there. "He been like this for a while?" Sean asked sympathetically.

"Two days," Gabrielle said flatly.

"I meant the burn but OK," Sean said. "I'll call Jack."

"No, don't," Gabrielle said shortly. "I'm not going to reward bratty behaviour."

"Or give Jack an opening wedge?" Sean suggested. "He's his _father_," he reminded Gabrielle.

"Says who?" Gabrielle asked coolly.

The matter was taken out of her hands when Ben refused to subside his tantrum, and no-one could get close enough to treat or sedate him. "For fuck's sake," Frank yelled, ready to give the boy a run for his money when it came to tempers. Though it didn't surprise him that the son of Jack Quade and Gabrielle Jaeger was so single-minded and bloody stubborn. "If you don't call Jack then I swear to God, Jaeger, I will _fire_ you if that's what it takes to get that kid out of here."

Gabrielle glowered at Frank, then realised the man was perfectly serious. "Fine," she snarled, and you would think from her tone that she was giving permission for them to hand her son over to a paedophile and not his father.

"Jack!" Ben cried when Jack made his appearance soon after, racing through the ED. Frank had made it sound like a life-or-death situation – which Frank considered disturbing the peace of his ED to be.

Jack scooped Ben up in his arms. "What the hell happened?" she asked.

"I was cooking pasta and he was trying to get my attention – " Gabrielle started in what she hoped was a confident, controlled voice.

She shrank when Jack turned on her in fury. "You let him in the _kitchen_? While you were _distracted_?"

The contemptuous tone in his voice made Gabrielle shrink back, but also infuriated her. "He was running around screaming!" she yelled at him.

"He looks pretty calm now!" he yelled back. Which reminded him of the fact that his _son _was _hurt_. "C'mon, mate, let's take a look at you." And he deliberately turned his back to Gabrielle and placed Ben on the nearest bed.

Gabrielle watched helplessly as Jack fussed over him and Ben responded by being more affectionate and responsive than she could ever remember him being with _her_. She watched him coax _her son_ to sleep until he was sleeping peacefully as if the last two days had never happened. "You can go home now," she said coolly to Jack.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going anywhere," he replied, just as coolly.

"Fine. I'll take _my son_ home then."

She went to take Ben and Jack grabbed her arm, wrenching it badly as he hauled her towards her and Frank's office. "Get your hands off me!" she yelled at him.

"I remember a time when that was the _last_ thing you'd say to me," Jack retorted. He pushed her into the office, slamming the door behind them. "What the hell kind of mother are you?" he demanded.

"He was screaming for two days!"

"He looked pretty calm to me. God, do you not know the first thing about making a child behave?" he snarled.

"Well, I'm sorry, Jack, but not all of us went to the Stella Quade school of parenting," she snarled back.

For a second he looked like he was about to hit her, and she knew she had gone too far. She was about to apologise, but he cut her off. "You are _never_ to say that again," he hissed. "I am _nothing_ like my dad."

"Yeah? Tell that to your dick."

That was it. He hit her. She reeled back, more shocked that Jack, no matter how angry he was, would hit her. "I'll make sure you never see Ben again!" she threatened.

"Yeah? I'll make sure DOCS are knocking on your door first thing tomorrow – and I know people in higher places than you," he threatened back. He got a kick out of knowing he had frightened her. Well, how the hell did she think _he_ felt, stewing for the last two days in his fears that he couldn't do much without his name on Ben's birth certificate?

"Go to hell," she spat.

"You first."

"I'm going to kill her. They'll have to give me custody then," Jack muttered.

"Uh, no, I think they'll put you in jail and give custody to her dad," Sean suggested dryly.

"Fine. I'll get DOCS to investigate her. She's a single mother on a nurse's salary. She can't be a very good provider," Jack said maliciously.

Sean was a little frightened by just how angry Jack was – and how determined he was to get to Ben, regardless of the consequences. "You said it yourself, she's a single mother," Sean said. "My sister's a single mother. It's not an easy job – and she was twenty-five and married at the time. She's had a hell of a lot of responsibilities since she was eighteen – an age I bet _you_ were out partying without a care in the world."

Jack squirmed at that, because he had partied harder than anyone he knew, and slept around more, and when he had been eighteen, he had been hanging out with twenty-one-year-olds. "That wasn't my fault. If I had known, I would have done something."

"I know. But that wasn't hers, either. It's just this unfortunate thing that happened and because of it, she had this huge responsibility that she wasn't ready for. Jack, she's spent the last six years on her own, putting up with God knows what. If you'd bothered to look at her instead of thinking about him, you'd see how frazzled she is. I bet she hasn't had a full eight hours sleep in more than six years. Look, if you keep at each other's throats you'll get DOCS onto both of you and then who's Ben's next of kin? Her dad?" Jack nodded. "The same dad who made sure you didn't see each other, that dad?" Jack nodded again. "So doesn't it make more sense to make nice with her?" He could see Jack was thinking about it. "Look, you want to see Ben? Try being _nice_ to her. I bet it's been a while since she got that from anyone when it wasn't attached to pity."

* * *

"What's this?" Gabrielle asked suspiciously. It could be a summons to appear in Family Court for all she knew, although she had a feeling summons got given to your by the police, or court officials, or something like that. Maybe Jack was taking perverse pleasure in delivering it himself.

"It's a gift certificate to this spa place Bec told me about. Massage, facial, the works. A whole day all to yourself to be pampered."

Gabrielle eyed him suspiciously, her heart torn between the luxury Jack was offering and her distrust of him. "Then give it to Bec," she said. "I don't want it."

He smiled at her with gentle humour. "You don't want a day all to yourself to be pampered and not worry about Ben or work or anything but enjoying yourself?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, knowing why he was doing it.

"Because I want to see Ben and I need you to be more relaxed and this way I can do both." He could see that she was wavering. "Look, it's only for a day, it's not even overnight. And you could do with a break. What could go wrong?"

Gabrielle was silent. She knew exactly what could go wrong; after a day Ben could be even more infatuated with Jack than he was now. And where would that leave her?

"Hey," Jack said, sensing her thoughts. He touched her cheek gently and pushed her face towards him so she was meeting his eyes. "You're his _mum_. I'm just some novelty who he happens to get what it's like for people to not understand how smart you are. It won't be long before he loses interest in me. But I'm never going to lose interest in him, Gabrielle. So you may as well get used to it... and take advantage of it while I'm in a generous mood."

Gabrielle closed her eyes, too tired and frazzled to fight with Jack and resit what he was offering her at the same time. "Fine," she said. "But just the day. And then... we'll see."

* * *

"He's not going to eat all that. He doesn't have much of an appetite," Gabrielle protested when she saw everything Jack had packed for his day out with Ben. Cold chicken pieces, ham and cheese sandwiches, potato salad, fruit and juice.

"That's what Dan said," Jack said. "And he can put away plenty of my cooking, too."

"You cooked all this?" she asked, impressed. She had never seen him put together anything more than a martini.

He knew what she was thinking. "Don't look so surprised. I like cooking, I just didn't have the facilities to cook on campus. The chook came from Woolies, but other than that, yeah, I did everything. And I'm sure he'll have an appetite before too long. He's not very active, is he?" he asked.

Gabrielle was immediately on the defensive. She felt like she would always be on the defensive when it came to her bad judgement of Ben's medication. "That wasn't my fault, I didn't know!" she said.

"I'm not having a go at you Gabs, I'm just asking that he's not very active." Gabrielle shook her head slowly. "Then just walking around the zoo will work up an appetite. Can he swim? I seem to recall that you couldn't."

Jack said this in a teasing tone that made her blush, remembering their first time at Lake Burley-Griffin. "He grew up on a land-locked farm, Jack. We both did. We didn't exactly have the Indian ocean as our swimming pool."

"So this land-locked farm was near Perth, was it?" he teased. "Indian Ocean's WA. I grew up with the Pacific as my swimming pool. And if he can't swim, I wouldn't start him off there anyway. There's plenty of pools which offer lessons for kids his age. If he wants to learn, I mean."

"I think he'd like that," Gabrielle said, feeling a little wistful. It was such an easy conversation, two parents talking about what was best for their kid when a few days ago they had been at each other's throats. She wished it could be this easy... she wished it had always been this easy.

"I almost forgot," Jack said, pulling out a piece of paper from his back pocket. "I figured you haven't had much time to read in the last six years, so – this is, like, the best library in Sydney and I know one of the librarians there." Actually, he knew them all, but he knew Lindsay particularly well, but he wasn't about to say that to Gabrielle. "Drop in on your way. She's like a book whisperer. You just have to think about what you're interested in and she'll have the perfect book for you. I'd have gotten you something myself but I figured you'd outgrown that _Sweet Valley_ crap."

"It was not crap!" Gabrielle said indignantly,

"It was quite good... for a drunk night's amusement," Jack conceded smugly. "Jane and I had many a night's entertainment out of the stuff you left at my place. I don't think Lindsay's going to let you lose in the kiddie section so you'll have to find something a little more highbrow. Besides," he added teasingly, "You at least want to be at the same reading level as Ben... no matter how smart he is."

"Smart alec," Gabrielle muttered under her breath, not nearly as infuriated as she felt she ought to be.

* * *

Jack watched as Ben tore into a chicken leg, devouring it in a matter of seconds. "Sorry," he apologised when he noticed Jack looking at him.

"It's fine," Jack said, realising Ben was apologising for his lack of manners, when there wasn't much he could do right now that could fail to enchant Jack. "It's just your mum said you didn't have much of an appetite." He eyed Ben critically. It showed. The boy was far too thin for his age. Lack of appetite was one thing, but did Gabrielle feed him at _all_? Wasn't farm life supposed to give you an appetite, all that fresh air and everything?

Ben shrugged. "I'm never that hungry."

"You are today."

"I don't walk around like this," Ben said. "I mean, I really like it, I just don't do it," he added hurriedly.

Jack suddenly realised that Ben was as nervous as he was. "Relax," he said. "I want you around. I spent a packet on your mum to go do something else so I could take you out. You don't have to be so nervous."

"What do you want me to do?" Ben asked politely.

"Whatever you feel like doing. I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything special around me."

Ben relaxed a little more around Jack after that, and Jack tried to be more natural around Ben – which wasn't easy, given even single minute Jack felt the urge to snatch Ben in his arms, settling him on his hip or lap. He resented the fact that Ben was clearly unfit and should be walking around if he had the inclination to do so, but he still wanted to carry him around.

_My son_, Jack thought in wonderment, and for a rare moment, he forgot his resentment that he should have known about Ben's existence nearly seven years ago. He had never thought about what kind of kid he wanted – even his daughter with Charlotte he only ever thought about in the abstract – but somehow, Ben was _exactly_ what he wanted, everything he needed. And he wanted to give Ben everything he wanted, needed and deserved.

* * *

"Wonder where Jack's taken Ben," Bart wondered out loud. "I have no idea what to do with a six-year-old."

"Probably taken him to the zoo, just 'cos there aren't any exotic animals on a farm, and SciTech, just to prove that he is a _way_ better carer than that childcare worker, and to see Lindsay."

"Who's Lindsay?"

"The children's librarian at South Duncraig. She's like, to children's librarians what Jane is to paediatricians. I mean, she's _fanatical_ about reading. She looked at me like I was a criminal when I told her I only read comic books. Jack gets along with her better than he does most of the doctors here." And she was a total hottie, too – trust Jack to stumble across a total babe just by going to the library – and more to the point, he had threatened Dan with bodily harm if he jeopardised Jack's popularity at that particular library by getting involved with Lindsay.

Zoe, overhearing the conversation, chuckled at that. "That doesn't surprise me in the least," she said. "I never met anyone who loved learning the way Jack did." She chuckled again, remembering how he'd gotten Jane to bring him in library books when he'd been in hospital; she couldn't exactly divulge something like that, but it was still amusing to remember. "Whoever this Lindsay is, she may not be as smart as him, but I'd put money on the fact she's as passionate about learning as he is."

"Holy _shit_," Lindsay McDonald said, forgetting her language and the fact she was in a library – in librarian uniform – when she saw Jack come in, mini-me in tow. _MM_, she silently christened him, and that's what she would think of him as from then on. "Who the – uh, hell – is he? How come I didn't know about him?"

"'Cos I didn't know about him until a week ago," Jack said ruefully, and Lindsay knew him well enough to know there was some serious regret there. "Lindsay, this is my son, Ben. Ben, this is Lindsay. She's a children's librarian, and if she can't think of a book for you, it doesn't exist."

Lindsay knelt so she was about the same height as Ben. Instinct told her that Ben had inherited Jack's phenomenal intellect and it would patronise him to assume he read the same kind of books other – what, five, six-year-olds? did. "What are you interested in?" she asked.

There was something about Lindsay that Ben immediately warmed to, in much the same way he had immediately warmed to Jane – something Gabrielle was insanely jealous was. Though in much different fields, both women's careers were children-oriented and as such, to be truly successful at it, you had to have a certain knack at it. Jane and Lindsay had just taken that knack and harnessed it to be something of child whisperers. "I don't know exactly," Ben admitted. "But Jack showed me _Narnia_ and I liked that."

"I see." Actually, Lindsay saw two things. The first was that Ben had called Jack 'Jack' not 'dad'; that can't have gone done well with Jack. Well, that could be dealt with later. The second, and most immediate, was that _The Chronicles of Narnia_ was advanced for someone Ben's age. "You know," Lindsay said. "When Jack was about your age, he had to be put up a year because he was scaring the other kids in his year with a scary book meant for older kids."

"Really?" Ben asked, looking at Jack with admiration.

"They were total wusses," Jack defended himself, thinking that as advanced as Ben was for his age, he didn't want Ben reading _Lord of the Flies_. He turned to Lindsay. "Look, he doesn't live with me, will that be an issue, getting him a card?"

"Tell you what," Lindsay said. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that and assume that he does." She took Ben's hand gently. "I know a whole bunch of books that boys about ten really love," she said. "Would that be too old for you?" The way Ben's eyes sparkled in pleasure at Lindsay assuming Ben was old enough to read books for ten-year-olds was all the answer she needed.

An hour later, Ben was on his own, surrounded by ten books – the limit on a card. "He's phenomenal," Lindsay said admiringly. "He must have the intellect of at least a ten-year-old."

"Really?" Jack asked pleasedly. It was one thing to hear that from someone who specialised in children's health; to hear it from someone who specialised in children's learning was something else entirely.

"Yeah," Lindsay said. "One thing, though – he can clearly understand the story when it's read _to_ him, but he struggles to read it to himself." Jack explained about Gabrielle mistakenly having Ben diagnosed with ADHD and his delayed learning as a result. Lindsay nodded understandingly. "That makes sense," she said. "The intelligence is obviously there, but the knowledge of how to do it, not so much. But that's just knowledge, it's easy enough to get if you want it. I mean, look at you. Or, rather, look at those idiot pervert brothers of yours and _then_ look at you."

Jack laughed, remembering the time he had made the mistake of letting his older half-brothers crash his twenty-forth birthday. They'd proceeded to get drunk and hit on every woman there, simultaneously boring everyone to tears with their ignorant diatribes. "But he has a _lot_ of potential, Jack. A _lot_. I see kids all say, every day. None of them have the kind of raw intelligence that he has. If you nurture that, who knows what you might make of him. Certainly more than either of those two twits."

Jack leaned against the counter and watched Ben, who, while struggling with the words, was nonetheless engrossed in the book. "I don't want him to be like me," he said softly. "I don't want him to feel stupid or unwanted. I want him to feel loved and encouraged."

Lindsay smiled indulgently at him. She had known for a while he would make a good dad; he helped her out with storytime when he could. It didn't surprise her in the least that Jack was liked this over his newly-discovered son. "I know," she said. "And I have no doubt you'll achieve just that."

* * *

Gabrielle unlocked the front door feeling like she was ten years younger. Which was somewhat appropriate, given ten years ago, she had been sixteen, with a mother and her innocence intact. She was immediately greeted by the smell of roasting meat and she inhaled deeply, appreciatively. It had been so long since she had had roast – since before she had left the farm, because she hadn't had the time to do one.

She gasped when she walked through the entry to see the house was spotless. Except for the kitchen counter, which was covered in flour. "Mum!" Ben called excitedly. "Jack's teaching me how to cook!"

"They're only scones," Jack defended himself. "It was the only recipe I could think of that was easy enough. It's kind of hard to stuff up a recipe that involved flour, cream and lemonade. You're earlier than we expected."

"Yeah, I wasn't much into the gossip of the Bondi set," Gabrielle said. "When you said your sister loved it, you didn't mention that women like her did, too."

"Sorry." It was impossible not to notice how relaxed Gabrielle looked – and how much younger because of it. She was still so beautiful. She had never been model-gorgeous, but she'd always had a passion and intelligence that radiated outwards and made her far beautiful than most of the he knew. "You've easily got an hour. There's wine in the fridge, go have a bath."

"Bath?" she echoed, the thought of a soak in the tub completely foreign to her. It had been so long since she had been able to have that kind of time to herself, or not be interrupted by Ben's tantrums.

"Yeah, bath. The big ceramic thing in the bathroom. Bath, wine, book. Go. Oh, by the way, what did you get?"

"Huh?"

"Books, what books did you get?"

"Oh. Lindsay thought I'd like – " Gabrielle rummaged through her bag, trying to find it. "She's got a French name, it's about a girl whose daughter gets cancer and – "

Jack groaned. He and Jane had ripped apart Jodi Picoult many a drunk evening; it was almost as fun as ripping apart _Sweet Valley_. "You're kidding me," he complained. "I'm trying to encourage Ben to read above his age group, and you're undermining me by reading implausible crap?"

"So-_ree_, Mr-doesn't-read-anything-that's-not-in-its-native-language," Gabrielle retorted. Smiling, she walked into the kitchen, gave Ben a quick kiss on the cheek, extracted the wine out of the fridge and a glass out of the cupboards and went off to the bathroom.

"Promise me you'll never read Jodi Picoult, unless you're being ironic," Jack said to Ben, smiling after Gabrielle. Ben smiled too. He wasn't sure exactly what had exchanged between Jack and Gabrielle, but he knew that they were being nice to each other and there was a pleasant vibe between then, which beat the hell out of the tension that had existed between them before now.

Ben Jaeger, like any child, wanted nothing more than to have his parents together in one big, happy family.

"I don't know how you do it," Gabrielle said with wistful envy when she and Jack retreated from Ben's bedroom. Ben had 'allowed' her to sit in when Jack read a little more of _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_ to him. There was no doubt that Jack had a knack with children – she hadn't been all that surprised when Lindsay had let it slip that Jack sometimes helped her out with storytime, and that the children loved him – but it went beyond simply having a knack with children. He already adored Ben... and Ben adored him right back.

"Do what?" Jack asked casually, as if bonding with his son over a few days and emerging from it with a relationship that looked like something out of a Disney Christmas special was no big deal. He took Gabrielle in. She was in her pyjamas and a nightgown, but she looked beautiful. The day at the spa had done her the world of good, and he would empty his bank account treating her like that if it made her look like that – young, relaxed, _beautiful_.

"Get him like that."

Jack shrugged. "I'm good with kids," he said. "And I know a thing or two about not being understood. My dad didn't understand how smart I was, either. Or maybe he did and my step-mother refused to have anything done about it. I just want him to have all the opportunities he can. There's a couple of really good child psychologists who will be able to work out where his intelligence level is, and I might be able to pull a few strings and get him into White's for next year." He went on to outline all the things he had for Ben's education – formal and informal – before realising that maybe he'd put a little too much thought into it. "Sorry," he said. "I just want him to have the opportunities I didn't."

"I know, and I appreciate it. I never would have thought of it for myself. Do – do you really think he could get into Whites? I mean, lots don't. _Bart_ didn't."

"_I_ did," Jack countered. "I mean, I was accepted, my dad just wouldn't let me go. And yeah, I think he could get in."

Gabrielle's eyes sparkled at the thought of her son getting into such a school when only a week ago she had thought him incapable of intelligence at his own level. "I'm sorry," she said, thinking about how she had misjudges Ben and maybe if Jack had been around she would have understood him a lot better – they both would have. "For everything."

"It wasn't your fault," he said. Though if he ever met Russel Jaeger again, he would really be giving the man a piece of his mind. "It can't be taken back and hating you for it won't achieve anything so we may as well work together. And I know it's not worth much now, but I'm sorry for the way I hurt you... and for not being honest with you."

"I appreciate that," she said.

"We were good together, though, weren't we?" Jack mused. "I've never been happy with someone the way I was with you."

Gabrielle snorted derisively at that. "C'mon, Jack, I know you're trying to butter me up so you can see Ben, but really, couldn't you come up with something that could pass as the truth?" She knew he had been involved with women older, more sophisticated and more experienced than her in the intervening years; no way could he have been happier with her than he had been with Terri Sullivan or Deanna Richardson.

As if reading her thoughts, Jack made a face. "The happiest I've ever been with someone was Deanna, and that was because she reminded me so much of you. It turns out it was a sham. She probably found out about you someone and figured that was the way to my heart. But no, I've never been happy with anyone like I was with you. I made the biggest mistake of my life cheating on you."

"It doesn't matter now," Gabrielle said, although she was touched that it still weighed on Jack's conscience.

"It does to me," he said softly. "It always will to me."

"Jack..." Gabrielle said, and in that moment, it seemed like the years fell away and they were seventeen and nineteen again. He was sorry, she knew, and had never stopped being sorry – which was far more than could be said for a lot of people, men _and_ women, out there. It wasn't just that as a result, he had missed out on the first six years of Ben's life; it was that he had missed out on having _her_ in his life. "I'm sorry things didn't work out between us," she said, and she was saying so much more than that. If only he had been a little more aware of how happy he was with her, if only he had been a little less drunk, a little more honest. If only, if only –

"I'm still in love with you," he whispered huskily as he leaned in to kiss her. She hadn't exactly been expecting it, but then, she wasn't exactly surprised, either. And she couldn't say she didn't want it. Jack felt _so good_ – he always did, always had – and without being fully aware of what she was doing, she was kissing him back.

It felt so right, she thought, as he pushed her onto the couch. It had always felt right between them, and now that there was Ben to think about – well, wasn't it natural for a young boy to have his parents together? And she wasn't even thinking only of Ben – she was thinking of herself, and how Jack made her feel.

"Beautiful," Jack whispered huskily into her neck, burying his face into her skin. "My beautiful baby." He ran his hands down her body, slipping it in inside her nightgown. He wanted to squeeze her tightly, paranoid that this was just a dream, and he restrained himself from hurting her and scaring her off. "Beautiful."

She ran her fingers through his hair, then down his neck, then she moved her hands down his back, and stopped. He was wearing a leather jacket, and for her, leather would always remind her of Bianca Miller and that skimpy, slutty dress she had been wearing – or half-wearing – the night Jack had broken her heart. Suddenly his kisses felt like ash, his touch felt sleazy.

She pushed him off her.

"What? Am I being too rough? Going too fast?" he asked in a concerned voice.

She met his eyes and was touched by the look in him – he was clearly trying to be and do whatever she wanted from him. But that didn't stop her feeling the way she did. "It's your jacket," she said.

"Huh?"

"The jacket. The leather. Bianca was wearing leather the night – that night. Haven't been able to stand the stuff since."

Jack cocked his head slightly as if analysing the irrational logic to her argument. But if she didn't like leather, then he owed her that much. "OK," he said, struggled to get up enough to shrug out of his jacket without actually getting off Gabrielle, because frankly, he didn't want to move off her.

Gabrielle stopped him, getting what he was trying to do. "No, stop," she pleaded, and struggled to sit up under him. It didn't help that she didn't completely _want_ to stop. Being with Jack felt so damn good, but now the image was in her head, she couldn't get it out.

How was it possibly to want someone so much and be so disgusted by them at the same time? To remember what it had been to be so in love with them but still hate them just a little for what they had done to you?

Jack stopped. He could read her face like a book. She had changed her mind; she didn't want this anymore. She didn't trust him; she couldn't fully let go of seeing him with Bianca. The jacket was just a trigger, her feelings of mistrust ran far deeper than mere aesthetics. Not that he could blame her, exactly, but it was still one hell of a disappointment to swallow. "Sorry," he said, scrambling off her. "I'm – sorry," he said again, at loss for the words to tell just _how_ sorry he was that he had hurt her so badly that she didn't trust him after all these years.

"Me, too," she said.

"I'm going to go," he said softly. "Tell Ben I'll see him soon, OK?" Gabrielle nodded, grateful that Jack wasn't making a scene. She watched him leave, torn between wanting to call after him to come back and her inability to completely trust him.

After Jack was gone, she sank back into the couch, feeling deflated. So many _if only_s were running through her head. If only he hadn't cheated – if only someone like Bianca hadn't been around, determined to _make_ him cheat – if only her dad had passed on his messages, maybe they could have worked things out before she became so bitter at having to carry the burden alone.

Did it ever stop hurting? Could they ever learn to live in some kind of harmony? Could you ever really get over the past?


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

"I got a call from Abigail Martin, she's a photojourno for _The Scene_," Jack said to Gabrielle a week later. They had both been trying hard to move on from their impromptu makeout session, cut short by Gabrielle's memories and mistrust, and they were doing a fairly good job of it. Jack wanted to see Ben, and his best chance of that was keeping Gabrielle onside, and Gabrielle loved the peace that Jack's presence brought to Ben. They had reached a silent understanding; they were to do the best they could by each other and Ben as his parents, but anything more intimate than that was off the table. "She wants to do a story on us."

Gabrielle's brow winkled in confusion. She was hardly someone who attracted the interest of _The Scene_, a social magazine for Sydney's professional community. High-profile doctors frequently made its pages, but a mere nurse, even a young NUM, wasn't about to make their front page. "What do they want with me?" she asked.

"_Us_," Jack corrected. "They want to do a story on _us_ – you, Ben and I. Childhood sweethearts, newly discovered prodigious son, blah, blah, blah."

For someone who was approaching her with the idea to have a story done about them, Jack seemed remarkably blasé about it. "You don't seem the type to covet the social pages," she said.

Jack grinned. "I'm not. But a couple of years ago they were going to do a piece on the Frosts – hot surgical couple, yada, yada, except Bianca was such a bitch that they refused to so much as print her name from then on, let alone publish the story. Somewhere out there she'll be spewing that you did yet another thing that she couldn't."

Gabrielle couldn't help but share Jack's grin; she knew _exactly_ how he felt. She was no more publicity-hungry then he was, but the thought of Bianca out there somewhere spewing over an achievement of Gabrielle's, no matter how shallow, that she herself couldn't achieve – "I'll do it," she agreed.

So a few days later Abigail was in Gabrielle's home and Jack and Gabrielle were putting on the works. Gabrielle could, when the occasion called for it, be witty and charming; she was young, but you didn't get to be NUM of a major metropolitan hospital without having charm and tact to fall back on. She and Jack were perfectly in sync, chatting amiably with Abigail over coffee. Abigail responded with warmth and eagerness; it wasn't often that she came across a surgeon, especially a good-looking surgeon, who wasn't completely up-himself. And Gabrielle was intelligent and friendly. Not the type she would have thought to interview for a publication like _The Scene_, but she would nonetheless make good print. _Anyone_ who could simultaneously take on Frank Campion and negotiate an unconventional relationship with Jack Quade made good print.

No to mention that it was obvious they still cared about one another. The gossip about them was rampant, of course – a thousand variations of were they together or weren't they? – but even if she hadn't known a thing about them, she would have known there was a definite vibe there.

Jack had made it clear that questions about their relationship were off-topic, and Abigail didn't care enough to push. It wasn't like _The Scene_ was in the same investigative stratosphere as _The New York Times_. But even so, it was clear that there was some serious history between them. Ben Jaeger was six years older, which meant he would have been born when Jack was twenty and Gabrielle eighteen. That was young to have a child, and from what she had heard, they hadn't been together since before Ben had been born. She wondered what had caused the split, and why Jack had only just found out about Ben?

It was a fascinating story, but not exactly what _The Scene_ was after and not worth pursuing professionally.

Ben had already gone to bed – Jack had deliberately scheduled the session so he would be out of Abigail's reach – and they wouldn't give her a photo, but were happy enough to talk about him. Abigail was aware of Ben's ADHD misdiagnosis, but since neither of them brought it up, neither did she. Jack mostly talked about hoping Ben would get into White's the following year. They allowed Abigail to see a photo of the boy – several of them, actually, taken in the last few days of Jack and Ben – and she made a mental note to write about the uncanny resemblance. If he had inherited Jack's charm and intelligence along with his looks, then no doubt he was going to be a heartbreaker.

She took some photos of Jack and Gabrielle together, noting of how well they looked together, how easy their body language was, despite whatever murky history had gone on between them. "You guys look great together," she said smoothly. "Do you mind, Jack, putting your arm around Gabrielle's shoulders?"

"I do, actually," Jack said, just as smoothly, although the note of determination in his voice was clear. "We don't want pictures like that getting back to Ben. It could confuse him."

Abigail let it go. They were a good enough story as it was, although some romantic images – no matter how posed – would have made it an even better one. But it wasn't worth pursuing and getting them offside. And God knew, there were too many publicity-seeking bitches like Bianca Frost in the world for her to get a decent guy like Jack Quade offside.

Besides, his reluctance to pose with Gabrielle like she had requested told her that he was _definitely_ single.

"Sorry about that," Jack said after Abigail had gone. "I didn't know she'd be that invasive."

Gabrielle laughed at that. Sometimes she forgot that Jack had no interest in popular culture. He didn't follow the tabloids, so of course Abigail's questioning struck him as invasive. "It's fine," she said. "It's nothing I haven't already dealt with." He cocked his head at that. "Oh, come on, Jack. I was eighteen and a single mother. Being the subject of gossip isn't exactly new to me. To be honest, I don't know how I thought I could get away with keeping something like that a secret." She laughed ruefully. "Probably lack of reason caused by sleep deprivation."

She, she looked adorable when she was laughing at herself like that. Actually, she looked adorable in pretty much everything she did. Adorable – cute – beautiful – sexy. Jack had vowed not to come onto her again, but sometimes, it was hard. Especially when he had come over for dinner and it had been _so easy_ for the three of them to share a meal, for him and Gabrielle to take turns reading to Ben, to act like the family they should have been six years ago. If only he hadn't cheated on her, if only he'd never met Bianca, if only her father hadn't kept his mail from her...

But whatever opportunities they might have had were gone now, and they had to make the best of what they had _now_.

"I should get going," Jack said, reluctant as always to leave. Gabrielle didn't seem upset with him that Abigail had been more invasive than he would have liked and he didn't want the night to end. But he didn't want to outstay his welcome either.

Gabrielle was disappointed that he was going. She enjoyed having him around and was surprised at how easily they had slipped back into the easy camaraderie that they had once shared. "I've got a couple of DVDs if you want to stay," she said.

Jack was tempted. After all, she was inviting him to stay without any hints on his part. But sitting on the couch with her less than a meter away? Many a video night – heh, he remembered when they'd watch videos instead of DVDs – had disintegrated because of their attraction for one another. And she had made it clear that, regardless of what attraction they had, she didn't trust him and therefor didn't want anything to come of it. "Thanks, but I should get going, I have an early start tomorrow," he lied. "I'll see myself out."

"OK," Gabrielle said, hoping the disappointment didn't sound in her voice. She didn't even know what she was disappointed over. It was just a freaking DVD. And it was probably for the best that he didn't stay, anyway; they had some serious chemistry, and it was probably a good idea that he wasn't sitting less than a meter away from him on a couch in a dark room.

A month later, shortly after the _The Scene_ piece came out, Gabrielle was working in triage when there was an aggressive knocking – more like a banging – on the triage window. She looked up to see a middle-aged – and _badly_ aged – man glaring at her through the thick plastic in a way that immediately put her on edge in a way that the typical pissed-off would-be patient did. Probably some guy with a deep sense of entitlement and the opinion that no-one's health was more important than his. Which was kind of odd, given he definitely didn't _look_ like the wealthy, entitled type. She smiled her friendliest, most patient smile. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'd like to see my grandson," he said in a gruff voice.

At staffbase, Charlotte was going through paperwork – the only thing Frank would let her do in her condition, like she was terminally ill instead of pregnant – when the vibrations from the triage window made her whip her head up. She cringed immediately when she recognised Ned Quade. The man was a creep. Who the hell hit on the woman carrying his first grandchild? With his wife in the house? Charlotte shivered with disgust just to think of it, and made her way over to the window. No way could Gabrielle handle him on her own – although Gabrielle had proven herself to be remarkably resilient when she needed to be. "Ned," she said with far more civility than she felt. "It's been a while," she said dryly. _Almost two years_. She would have been quite happy to never see him again.

Ned looked blankly for a few seconds, before he connected this woman with the one Jack had introduced him to almost two years ago. Well, she had certainly aged. "Charlene," he said.

Charlotte ignored that. "Jack's in surgery, I can page him if you want, but I don't know when he'll be free." Charlotte was well aware of the strained relationship Jack had with his father; he could very well leave via another exit in order to avoid Ned.

Ned smiled – more liked leered – at Charlotte. "I was after Gabrielle," he said. "I'm Ned. Ned Quade," he said.

"I figured," Gabrielle said, trying to be polite when she was beginning to feel creeped out. She knew nothing about Ned other than what Jack had said about him – which wasn't much, actually, come to think of it. "How can I help you?"

Ned held out a copy of _The Scene_. "I'd like to see my grandson," he said.

Despite trying to maintain a calm, collected demeanour, Gabrielle's eyed bugged slightly to realised that Ned had found out about Ben through the magazine. She couldn't help but wonder who he had gotten the news from; he didn't seem the type to be reading a social magazine about Sydney's upper-echelon professionals. "I'm sorry, Jack never told you?" she asked, feeling a little hurt. Why hadn't Jack told his father about something as monumental as having a son? She knew they didn't speak much, but surely that was the kind of news that you contacted a person over? Hell, he knew who Charlotte was, didn't he? Charlotte had certainly gotten enough mileage about how Ned Quade was a creep who could turn any woman gay; Jack had bothered to tell him about _that_ child, enough to introduce him to Charlotte, no matter how badly the meeting had gone.

Ned glowered. Hadn't he just told the silly country git that? (He knew Gabrielle was a silly country git because the magazine said tat; well, not the _silly_ and _git_ bit, but the girl was from the country, so that made the rest a given. "No, he didn't," Ned said huffily. "Does he use your name?"

"Of course he does," Gabrielle said, wondering why Ned was harassing _her_ when he should be harassing _Jack_. She wasn't to know that Jack had deliberately not passed on his contact details when he had moved from Mary's place to Dan's after his disastrous twenty-fifth birthday. "Why?"

"He's my only grandchild," Ned said sullenly. That surprised Gabrielle; Jack had said his brothers were both older than him, something like three and five years. That would put them at thirty and thirty-two, certainly not particularly young to have made Ned a grandfather.

"Look, Ned, I'm sorry Jack hasn't said anything to you, but you should take that up with him," Gabrielle said. _I don't even know who you are_. Other than the fact he and Charlotte recognised each other, and given what Charlotte had already said on him – nothing of which Jack had contradicted – that wasn't exactly in his favour.

"I can't, I don't have his number," Ned said, just as sullenly. "He's moved."

"Well, that's easy. I'll just – " Gabrielle started, and Charlotte cut her off.

"We actually have a policy not to hand out staff information," she said breezily, which, while technically true, was a policy that got bent all the time. Hell, Charlotte herself had handed over half their contact list to Rebecca when she'd wanted to plan a surprise birthday for Jack. "But I'll pass on the message that you came by." She stared at him pointedly until Ned got the point that she wasn't about the let him any close to Jack – or Ben – than that side of the triage window. He flounced off.

"What," Gabrielle asked, "was _that_ about?"

"What, you and Jack were deeply in love and he never mention he doesn't get along with his family? At least the Quade side of it," she added ruefully. Rebecca had been in his life for all of three minutes before they had taken to each other like the twins out of those _Sweet Valley_ books Jack had teased Gabrielle mercilessly over.

"I knew he didn't get along with them," Gabrielle said testily. For some reason, it bothered her that Charlotte knew so much about him that she didn't. Not to mention the closeness he shared with Zoe that surpassed a doctor-patient relationship or that of colleagues. It wasn't like there was a relationship between them for her to be jealous of any _other_ relationship he had with a woman, but still...

Charlotte noted the testiness in Gabrielle's voice. She wondered if the younger woman was jealous about the close bond she and Jack shared. She suspected Gabrielle felt much more strongly about Jack than she was letting on to anyone – including herself. "Ned's a jerk, and a sleaze. He came onto me _after_ Jack had told him about my pregnancy. He's the kind of man who would do that in his own home with his wife a few meters away. He's not someone you want anywhere near you, and Jack knows it. I'm not surprised he hasn't introduced you to him."

"If he's Jack's dad, then he's old enough to be _my_ dad," Gabrielle said. Actually, she thought he was older than her dad, although it was hard to say. If his oldest son was thirty-two, then he could be as young as fifty, but looked at least six-five. "He's hardly likely to hit on someone younger that all _three_ of his sons."

Charlotte laughed derisively at that. "For someone who's been a single mother since she was eighteen, you come up with some pretty naive country shit," she scoffed.

Gabrielle caught up with Jack later that day, after his surgery was done. "How come you never told you dad about me? Or, more to the point, _Ben_?"

Jack looked at her blankly, and Gabrielle held up a copy of the magazine. "Huh. Wonder how he got it," Jack mused. Ned certainly wasn't the type to be reading such publications – _Ralph_ was as high-end as it got – and neither was he the type to read publications he didn't usually read because his son featured in it.

"That's not the point, Jack. Why didn't you tell him about us? He sure recognised Charlotte."

"And did it occour to you that the reason I didn't tell him about you is because of the way he treated Charlotte? I don't want you to have anything to do with him."

"I'm a big girl, Jack. He's not the first creep I've dealt with. Single mother equals easy, remember?" she asked bitterly.

Jack ground his teeth together. He hated it when she made cutting little remarks like that, it made him feel so guilty. Even if it wasn't _him_ who had been responsible for them being apart. "Trust me, you don't want him in your life – or Ben's."

"He's his grandfather, Jack."

"You want him to have a grandfather? Invite Russel up for the weekend. I'd _love_ to have a chat with him," Jack said, getting his own cutting little remark in. He knew that, as fundamentally honest as Gabrielle was, she couldn't deny the damage her father had done in withholding Jack's letters from her. Because of it, Ben had been deprived of his father for six years; a father who could have saved him the trauma of being misdiagnosed with ADHD and treated like a baby.

Gabrielle sent him a pained look. She hated it when Jack reminded her of her father's misguided intervention. After all, he had meant well, hadn't he? "I have a right to make up my own mind," she told him in a firm voice that Jack knew better than to argue with.

"Fine," he said. "But _I_ organise it, and you do exactly what I say, OK?" he said, Gabrielle nodded. Jack wasn't sure why he was letting her go ahead with this. Just because they weren't together and there was no hope of them getting back together didn't mean he wanted to throw her to a wolf like his father. Or have her anywhere near him, for that matter. The other side of the triage window was as close as he wanted. And even _that_ was too close, in his opinion.

* * *

Jack knew he shouldn't have been surprised when his step-mother showed up sober. Whenever they had gone out for dinner, she had always had several shots of vodka under her belt to save money at the bar. But that was only when _she_ was picking up the tab. When she learnt that Jack would be paying for lunch, she had knocked by the most expensive stuff they had like it was free tap water.

Jack watched her pityingly while keeping an eye out on Gabrielle. Knowing Stella's logic, she probably thought hitting her step-son up for high-end booze at restaurant prices was only starting to repay the hurt she had endured over the years of her husband's flagrant infidelity. Not that that was Jack's fault – but he had learnt very early on that he was an easy target for Stella's unhappiness.

He had insisted on leaving Ben with his sister. If Gabrielle thought she had a right to make up her own mind – fair enough, but like hell was he exposing Ben to that, at least not until Gabrielle had witnessed it for herself. And even then – the idea of Stella having anything to do with his son made him shiver. It was hard to say who he most feared being alone with Ben, Stella or Patrick Wesley. He was actually inclined towards Stella, because Ben wasn't old enough for Patrick to have an interest at him, whereas Stella would take one look at those aqua-grey eyes from his maternal grandmother, Carla Rowe, and take her anger out at Ned's infidelity all over again...

Ned had been eyeing off a pretty blond waitress who had the classic looks of Jane or Zoe. (Ned had never met Zoe, but he had met Jane, who had put on such a trust-fund princess act that even Ned had worked out she was way out of his league.) Stella noticed it, and was extremely angry over it. Bitterly she thought she should be used to it by now, but no. Show him a pretty blond – she glowered at Gabrielle, who was blond enough to remind her of all the pretty blonds that had attracted Ned's attention of the years, including Carla. "How's that friend of yours?" she asked. "The one with the daughter."

Stella had this way of referring to Mary in a way that judged her illegitimate status to be the worst thing that could possibly happen to the girl. It was a zinger aimed at Gabrielle, Jack knew, even if Gabrielle herself didn't know it. "Jane's fine," Jack said. "She's head of paediatrics now. _The Scene_ keeps harassing her to do a photo shoot, but she's more possessive of Mary than we are of Ben." _Take that, you boozy old cow_, Jack thought. No publication was about to ask Stella for a photo shoot... unless you counted the 'before' of a before and after beauty campaign.

"I didn't take you for a posterboy," Stella said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "You were always so big of professional integrity and not relying on superficiality."

Jack was impressed that Stella was able to pronounce 'superficiality' given how much she had had to drink. But like a lot of alcoholics, she had a remarkably high tolerance, and her drunkenness could be seen in what she was saying and not how she was saying. Stella Quade got increasingly bitter and bitchy with every drink. "I'm not," Jack said cheerfully. "But they offered us ten grand for it. That's two years tuition at White's."

He was lying through his teeth. _The Scene_ was a small magazine that relied on ads from companies that wanted to promote their goods to wealthy professionals who couldn't resist gossip; no way could they afford ten thousand dollars even if someone with Fiona Stanley's credentials and Jennifer Hawkins' looks came swanning through the door. But Stella didn't know that. Neither did she know that Ben hadn't yet met with the principal of White's Academy, let alone not been accepted yet. Or that if he _was_, Jack's status as tutor technically made him staff, which meant his tuition was free.

But by God, it was wonderful watching Stella struggling to keep her alcohol down at the thought of Jack being paid ten thousand dollars to pose for a social magazine. He felt Gabrielle tremble slightly next to him in her attempts not to laugh at his obvious lies. He snaked his arms around her shoulders to steady her.

It hadn't taken long for Gabrielle to realise that Jack had every reason to put great distance between him and his father and step-mother. His father had been making eyes at the cute waitresses the whole time, and Stella had been throwing back the expensive alcohol like it was free tap water. And Stella had been making loaded comments all meal that Gabrielle didn't entirely understand but knew that they were meant in the spirit of extreme nastiness.

It wasn't long before Stella got drunk enough that Gabrielle was a handy target for her bitterness. "He sounds like such a beautiful boy," she cooed in that same falsely sweet voice. "Why did it take you this long to tell Jack about him?"

"Extremely bad timing," Jack said, with all the nonchalant charm of Cary Grant in some romantic movie about misunderstandings where everything worked out in the end. "We broke off over some dumb thing – I was frustrated that she wasn't eighteen and dumb enough to pick fights over it – and I was planning on travelling and then Australia Post lost my mail – you know how bad it is just getting stuff in Sydney, let alone to Woop-Woop that's practically in Victoria." He squeezed Gabrielle's shoulder apologetically. She didn't say anything, so he hoped that meant she understood why he was saying what he was. "So she had no idea how to contact me and I had no idea she was pregnant. It was pure dumb luck that she took a position at All Saints." Actually, Jane Grey and pure dumb luck, but Jack wasn't about to remind his father of his gorgeous best mate.

"And you're OK with him not having your name?" Stella asked.

Jack had known it was coming, so he did well not to show that no, actually, he wasn't OK with it. "That's what it says on his birth certificate, and I think it's best not to confuse him. If he wants to change it later, he can. I don't want him to feel he ought to be something to fit expectations." He loaded his words with irony, although no doubt his father would have missed them; Ned Quade was still a little ashamed that his youngest son did something so wimpy as medicine when the Quades had been labourers for the last hundred or so years. "Besides, it's not like it means the world. Bec and I don't have the same last name either, and that doesn't make her any less my sister."

"Or a great aunt," Gabrielle spoke up. "I've certainly never had a problem finding a baby-sitter."

Ned scowled at that. So Jack trusted that slip of a nineteen-year-old with his grandson but not him? "You should bring him over," he said sullenly. "That magazine didn't even give a picture of him."

With a little reluctance, Jack handed over a recent photo of Ben – reluctantly, because Ben looked so much like him, and he'd gotten a lot of his looks from his mother's side of the family, something Stella had never let him forget. No way was Jack letting Ben anywhere near Stella and have her reminded all over again of the proof of Ned's infidelity. "He looks just like you," Ned said wistfully, and for a brief moment, Jack felt a little sorry for him. Both his brothers took after Stella's side, and for a man like Ned, not having a son who looked like him was a blow to his pride.

"You can keep that," he said with a rare feeling of generosity. It was only a photo, it wasn't like Ned could do much damage to Ben with it.

Stella noticed the similarity, too, and resentfully remembered that trashy barmaid who was his grandmother all over again. "I always figured you'd find someone like your mother," she spat bitterly.

Jack had known it was coming. He grabbed Gabrielle's hand, partly in solidarity and partly to restrain her. "Excuse me?" he asked coolly.

"Your mother. No class, no dignity, sleeping with any man who would have her," Stella said, relishing the look on Gabrielle's face. Actually, there was no way Gabrielle was promiscuous – she could see it on the stupid country girl's face, the compete lack of knowledge how to attract a man – but Stella still enjoyed saying it.

Jack heard – and _felt_ – Gabrielle's sharp intake of breath next to him. "Right, because Grace Kelly move over, you are just the _epitome_ of class," Jack retorted, enjoying the look of confusion on Stella's face because she didn't know what _epitome_ meant.

She understood sarcasm though, and understood that Jack had just insulted her. And worse than that, despite the fact that they weren't together, it was obvious that Jack still care deeply about Gabrielle. That was clear from the way he looked at her. Stella knew Ned had never looked at her like that. "You just want what I've got," she said spitefully.

Gabrielle eyed what even to her untrained eye was a cheap wedding ring. She had reached her breaking point with Stella and her snide comments, and understood now what Jack hadn't wanted to introduce her to his dad and step-mother. She supposed she should be grateful that there were enough attractive waitresses around for him not to bother hitting on her. "What, a cubic zirconia and a philandering husband?" she quipped. Maybe she was way out of line here, but all meal, Stella had been making cutting comments about her country upbringing and Ben's illegitimacy. It wasn't like Stella's life was so brag-worthy.

Stella went white with anger. What had Jack been telling this girl? "At least I _am_ married," she said coolly, looking pointedly at Gabrielle's ring-less finger.

"Because I _want_ to be married to someone who hits on the woman carrying their grandchild and drown my sorrows in whatever booze I can freeload. You know what, Stella? Jack and I may not have worked out, but I know he respects me and cares about me, which I'd say is a hell of a lot more than you can claim." She pushed her plate away. "I've lost my appetite," she said to Jack. "I'll wait in the car." Dumbfounded, Jack handed over the keys and watched Gabrielle leave the restaurant.

He was struggled to restrain himself from laughing, and seeing the look on Stella's face didn't help. She looked – well, she looked like she had so many times during Jack's childhood, angry and humiliated. But Jack didn't think he had ever seen quite the look of distress he had that was on her face now. She had to know that Gabrielle spoke the truth. She was a lush with a philandering husband and, as dysfunctional as Jack and Gabrielle's relationship was, it was one based on fondness and respect, which was, as Gabrielle had said, a hell of a lot more than Stella and Ned had. "Airing the dirty laundry?" Stella asked icily.

"You're the one who dirtied it in the first place," Jack retorted. Any second now and he'd start laughing. He knew he should feel sorry for Stella, but she had brought her misery onto herself. "I think this dinner is over. Dad, if you want to see Ben, I'll organise for you to see him with me or Gabby. But _she_ is not going anywhere near him. He ruined my life; she's not having a go at his." And with that he walked out, stopping to pay the bill and stressing that anything else Stella racked up was hers to pay. It was kind of amusing to think how she would react to the price of Grey Goose when she had to pay for it.

Gabrielle was waiting in the car. "Jack, I'm so sorry," she said when he got into the driver's seat. "I know I should have just sucked it up. But the way she was acting like I was trash and she was the Queen – I couldn't bear the stuff she was saying, about you, me or Ben."

Jack smiled. "It's fine," he said, and he couldn't help it, his face lit up in a massive smile. "That was _so cool_. I didn't realise how much I was still intimidated by her until you put her in her place. She's had it coming for twenty years. _Now_ do you understand why I didn't want Ben to meet them?"

Gabrielle nodded. "I really didn't understand that people could be so mean," she said. "I certainly don't want Stella around him. But if you dad wants to see him – "

Jack nodded. "He's still his grandfather. I'm thinking maybe supervised visits. And I told him that. But honestly, I don't think dad's going to follow it up. I don't think Stella will let him."

"Jack, I'm sorry." The more she got to know him, the more she understood what made him tick.

"It's OK. I'm just glad he has a least _one_ grandparent who's a decent role model."

"Even grandparents who withhold key correspondence?" She hadn't intended to ever bring that up – it had been a major betrayal on her father's part and she never wanted to have him reminded of it if she could help it – but in light of the fact he was so good-natured about her insulting his step-mother, it felt natural to banter with him.

"Let's just say I'll take your dad as a grandfather over mine," Jack said. He wasn't _quite_ up to forgiving Russel intercepting his letters... but it had been a nice night, albeit for unusual reasons, and he didn't want to spoil the moment.

They picked Ben up from Rebecca's. Rebecca, like Jack, was highly intelligent and tended not to relate to children because of that. For that reason, she had an excellent rapport with Ben, and if Ben's intellect sometimes didn't match up with that of a nineteen-year-old law student, he nonetheless adored her for interacting with him on the same level as her law student friends. "He makes me want kids of my own," Rebecca said, almost sincerely. "But I'm _way _too young. Sorry," she said when she realised what she had said; she was older than Gabrielle had been when she'd had Ben.

"It's fine," Gabrielle said. Jack had been almost forgiving towards her father; she in turn should overlook his sister's habit of saying the first thing that popped into her head.

Ben was sleepy, so Jack took him in his arms. "Bye, Auntie Bec," Ben said sleepily.

Rebecca smiled at that. "Auntie Bec," she said pleasedly. "Well, he was calling me Aunt Rebecca. I know what that means. Duh, haven't you read _What Katy Did_."

"No," said Gabrielle, "But I can tell that between the two of you, he's never going to run out of stuff to read."

"Beats _Sweet Valley_," Rebecca and Jack replied in unison.

They had put Ben to bed and Gabrielle was seeing Jack out. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?" she asked him. "I got some foreign-language films and it would be nice to have someone who doesn't need to have the subtitles read to them."

He smiled dryly. He was aware she had gotten the foreign language DVDs because of a conversation she had overheard he and Rebecca having about French films. "Gabby, that stunt you pulled today was awesome. I don't think I've ever seen anything sexier. I think I should go before I do something we'll both regret." He had never been more aware of how sexy she was, and didn't trust himself to stick around. Better that he left now before he did something stupid.

She found herself feeling flushed, and whether it was because she was flattered that he was still attracted to her or embarrassed that she could feel the same sexual heat he was feeling. "Maybe that's a good idea," she said, and she wasn't sure if it _was_ a good idea or not. She certainly wanted him to stay.

"Then I'll get going," he said. He quickly kissed her on the cheek and headed out the door. Gabrielle watched him go, thinking how attractive he was, and how ludicrous it was that he had bowed out rather than let something happen that they might regret.

Jack got halfway down the street before he stopped and got his phone out. "Hey, Lindsey," he said. "I'm horny. You free?"

* * *

"Wow," Lindsay said, cuddling up to Jack. "I was wondering if you'd ever come back."

"Huh?" Jack asked.

"Gabrielle. Something happen between you guys?" she asked nonchalantly.

"How did you know about her?"

Lindsay laughed. "Jack, I worked it out from the second you walked in with Ben. You would have been, what, twenty when he was born? But you never mentioned her but you've been emotionally unavailable from the moment I met you. Jesus, you think I got a career in information services by not picking up on stuff? I knew you were never going to be available for commitment. And it totally made sense that you would send this stressed-out woman to me and then come in that afternoon with your son. You've been pining for her for, like, seven years."

"Oh." Jack felt deflated. He hadn't realised how obvious his feelings were. He thought about how he'd felt during his relationship with Terri, with him constantly feeling like she would rather be with her late husband. It sucked to know you weren't the person they wanted to be with; had he done that to Lindsay? "I'm sorry," he said guiltily.

Lindsay laughed. "Jack, any woman who gets involved with you hoping you'll fall in love with her is a fool. I may not have that fancy Canberra education that you do, but I was wise enough to know what I was getting into. I knew you were never going to fall in love with me. Like I gave a crap about that. We've had fun, haven't we? What more could a girl want? So you don't have to feel guilty for not delivering on something you never promised," she said. Though it was sweet that he _did_ feel guilty. If only Gabrielle was aware how he felt about her. Well, that was her loss – and Lindsay's gain. Speaking of which – she stretched luxuriously, running her fingers down Jack's chest. He certainly was a very good-looking man. "Now, let me see, it's been so wrong that I'm having trouble remembering what your recovery time is like." Her hand reached his crotch and she stroked his penis in the way she knew from experience that he liked. His reaction was immediate and his appreciation was obvious.

"Lindsay," he groaned, forgetting all about Gabrielle. Despite the fact he had never been in love with her and never would be, they shared a strong physical attraction and, being two people who craved knowledge, had an excellent rapport. And it wasn't like anything was going to happen with Gabrielle so it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong by her. Maybe if things were different – but they weren't, and why shouldn't he enjoy himself?

Lindsay grinned. She knew how to turn Jack on. "I bet it's been a while since you had a decent blow job," she said huskily, dipping her head and taking him in her mouth. Jack shuddered when she did. It certainly beat jerking off.

* * *

"I don't get it," Gabrielle said to Zoe the next day. She knew Zoe and Jack were close and was hoping for some insights to his behaviour. "He's been trying to get back with me ever since I got here. And yet we have this fantastic night – in a weird way – and he doesn't do anything."

Zoe smiled. "Did it occour to you that it's _because_ he's been trying to get back with you and you keep turning him down that he's a little gun-shy? Or that he's trying not to complicate things because of Ben? You can't expect him to just keep trying and getting rejected and not have any impact on his ego. He's actually a lot more insecure than he appears to be."

Gabrielle hadn't thought of it like that. Jack was always so confident – at least he seemed to be. And yet – Zoe had a point. She hadn't exactly given him the impression that a reconciliation was on the cards. In fact, she wasn't even sure if that was what she wanted. They had a terrific camaraderie, and sexual chemistry to burn, but – "I'm not sure if I can trust him," she admitted.

That didn't surprise Zoe. "For what it's worth, I think you can," she said. "He's not his dad, whatever ideas he might get in his head to the contrary. I think you leaving him really made him think about what he'd done. I don't think it's something he'd ever do again. But I also know that's not something you can just take my word on. Some things you just can't forget," she said, thinking about the failure of her own marriage, because while her husband had sort of understood the place she had been in at the times, some things some people just couldn't get over. "He loves you and he's regretted what he did ever since – and seven years is a long time to regret something. If you don't believe me, ask Jane or Lindsay."

Gabrielle cocked her head at the second name. "You know Lindsay?" she asked.

Zoe laughed. "I'm surprised it took Jack until he was, what, twenty-two before he made good friends with a librarian. It totally makes sense when you see them together." She knew better than to say anything about the sexual relationship she suspected Jack and Lindsay of sharing. "But they've known him longer than I have and if you want anyone to vouch for how he feels about you, they'd be it. But I think you already knew that," she surmised.

Gabrielle nodded. "They can't speak highly enough of him," she said. "And his sister worships him. My mum used to say that you can tell a lot about a guy by the way he treats his female relatives."

"Sounds like you already know the answers, then. Which means the only question is – can you get over it?"

Gabrielle thought about that; she thought about it a _lot_. And her feelings weren't helped by the fact she knew it would do Ben good to have his parents together; she knew that was a bad reason to get back together, no matter how good it appeared to be for Ben.

The reality was, she and Jack had something special and if only he hadn't made one mistake, albeit a big one, seven years ago they could have long since settled down together. Hell, maybe their relationship might have even survived his infidelity, if she hadn't witnessed it. But she had, and now she had to decide if reconciliation was what she wanted or not.

In the end, it was the respectful space Jack gave her that made up her mind. He might be hot for her, but he respected that she didn't want to get back together – or at least that he _thought_ she didn't want to get back together. He could have seduced her if he had wanted; Gabrielle didn't have such a high opinion of her abilities to resist him that she didn't know _that_ to be the truth.

"You want to come over for dinner tonight?" she asked him that afternoon.

"You kidding me? Ben and your cooking versus playstation and takeout?" he asked. He was glad she didn't seem to be funny about their awkward moment the other night. He was trying to deal with their obvious chemistry, and didn't want things to be awkward between them. Briefly he thought of Lindsay. He felt a little guilty about it, although he wasn't exactly sure why, since Lindsay, it turned out, had always known he was hung up on someone else. Maybe it would be best to steer clear of women for a while.

She smiled, hoping she didn't look too nervous. "Great, come by anytime after six," she said.

"You spoil me, you know," Jack said after dinner and after putting Ben to bed. "I haven't had anyone cook for me since my old place burnt down. I've never seen Dan do anything more complicated than mac cheese."

"Glad I could be of service," she said in what she hoped was flirtatious banter. She just wasn't good at this and she thought of Jane, who she was sure knew how to handle situations like this. "Tired?" she asked.

Jack yawned. "A little. For all that I totally don't miss Bianca, I do miss having the extra surgeon around. I think it was the one good thing she was good at. Other than fucking with people just because she could."

Gabrielle smiled indulgently. "Do you know where she ended up?"

Jack shrugged. "I only ever knew what Jane knew and bothered to tell me, and Jane's had an axe to grind ever since she made up that crap about me being Mary's dad – not that I wouldn't be proud to have a daughter like her. I can find out if you're interested," he said, ironically rather _dis_interestedly.

Gabrielle laughed ruefully. "The only thing I'm interested in is that she's far away that we haven't heard from her. You know," she mused, "now that I'm not as stressed out as I was – I actually kind of feel sorry for her. That must sound idiotic."

"It sounds like something a mature, secure, intelligent woman would say," Jack corrected. "Jane feels the same way about her. So do I, I guess. People don't act the way she did when they're happy. And she never got that all the good looks and talent in the world weren't going to make up for being a lousy human being, and I don't think she ever will. You know what? I think she would have traded places with you if she could have."

Gabrielle laughed at that. "What did I tell you about making up something realistic if you're going to lie to make me feel better?"

"And what did _I_ tell _you_ about having a little more faith in yourself? You have the respect of your team – hell, Von can't say enough about you, though she might never say it to you face, that little stunt you pulled creating the Patient Liaison Nurse was a fine bit of manipulation, by the way – and you control Frank better than any NUM I've seen work with him. The doctors all like you, and you know how fond of you _I_ am. What does she have? A glittering career that will stall the second she slips up because everyone she's come across hates her and no-one will give her an inch if she's anything more than perfect. Just look at the fact _The Scene_ won't have a bar of her for love or money. A husband who cheats on her. And she'll never have kids." Which, in most people's opinions, was a good thing, but no matter how nasty a human being Bianca was, having a choice like that taken from you was always a blow – even if she had brought it upon herself. "There aren't a lot of people who would rather be in her shoes than yours... her including, I think."

Gabrielle felt flushed again, particularly at the part about Jack being fond of her. "You're really fond of me?" she asked.

Jack rolled his eyes. "No, I've just been coming onto you these last three months for lack of anything better to do," he said sarcastically, trying not to think about Lindsay. That seemed like a particularly bad idea now.

It seemed like an even worse idea when Gabrielle kissed him. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember her ever kissing him; he had always instigated things, first when they were together because she was so inexperienced and terrified of appearing forward, and more recently because he was always the one pursuing her. So, no, he couldn't remember her ever kissing him, and that in itself was almost as much of a surprise as the fact she was kissing him when a month ago she had made it clear nothing was ever going to happen between them. "What are you doing?" he whispered, not exactly kissing her back but not making any effort to move away, either.

"I thought that was obvious," she said, and she kissed him again, hoping that in the last month he hadn't changed his mind about being with her. He had _said_ he was attracted to her just a few nights ago, hadn't he? That he should leave before he did anything he regretted, hadn't he? She brought her hands around to the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair, willing him to kiss her back, worrying she had made a seriously bad judgement call.

He kissed her back; he certainly didn't need to be offered twice. He wondered what had done it, what had changed between now and a few nights ago – or if things had changed before then and something he had said or done had made up her mind for her. Hell, maybe his determination to give her space rather than seduce her had made up her mind. He smiled inwardly...

... The smile metaphorically vanished as his conscience lurched and he thought about Lindsay. He hadn't done anything wrong, not technically – not even 'not technically' like the time he had not technically cheated on Terri with Charlotte. Gabrielle had made it clear that, for all their chemistry and camaraderie, nothing was going to happen between them, and that made him a free agent.

Still, he shouldn't have done it.

"Gabrielle, slow down," he whispered, which was hard, because he wasn't exactly trying to put on the brakes. How could he, when she was pressing her body against him like that and – oh, God, she straddled him with a speed and agility that surprised him and he found his hands on her waist without being entirely clear on how they had gotten there but the thing with Gabrielle was that he often wasn't quite sure as to how they had gotten into a certain position. "Gabby, _slow down_," he stressed a little more firmly. "I need to talk to you."

"Don't you want this?" she asked, kissing his neck the way he liked.

He shuddered with desire. Why now – why not a few days ago. "Of course I do," he said.

"Then stop protesting." She wondered if he was playing hard-to-get to make a point, or if he was just worried that this was one more time that she thought she wanted it and backed out at the last minute. "I've thought about it. This is what I want."

Oh, God, why couldn't she have worked that out a few days ago? She placed her hand on his chest then provocatively moved it down to his crotch, rubbing him through his jeans. He became hard immediately. "Gabby, _stop_." She didn't stop, just continued to rub him, and he blurted out, "I slept with Lindsay."

It got him what he wanted – which was for Gabrielle to stop. But it wasn't exactly the way he had wanted things to go. Gabrielle got off him and sat on the couch, legs folded against her chest, arms wrapped around him. She looked very small and disappointed. "When?" she asked, thinking that Lindsay was exactly the kind of woman Jack would be attracted to – a little bit older, learned and passionate about learning.

"A few night ago," he said weakly.

"When we met your dad and Stella?" she asked in a brittle voice. He nodded. "Are you left here?" he nodded again, and she felt her heart plummet. So he had gone to Lindsay after spending the evening with her, after having a fantastic connection with her, even if it _had_ been over his wicked witch of a step-mother. "Oh," she said in a very small voice. She knew she had no claim to him; she had made it clear that nothing would happen between them and she had no right to demand that he didn't date, or sleep with, or do anything remotely romantic or sexual with anyone else on the off chance she would change her mind at some point down the track.

But she _had_ changed her mind at some point down the track, and knowing that Jack had simply found someone more willing when he couldn't have her – that hurt more than she cared to admit, especially since she couldn't exactly rage at him for being unfaithful. He was a free agent, and he and Lindsay were both adults.

"It's not like I cheated on you," Jack said, echoing her own thoughts, and for some reason, that hurt her even more. It was one thing to know you were disappointed over something you had no right to be disappointed over; it was entirely another to hear the same sentiment coming from the person. "If I had known – "

"No, you didn't cheat on me," Gabrielle said. "I had no right to expect you not to act like a free agent."

"I wanted to be honest with you," Jack said desperately. He could tell by her body language that he had lost her, and he wanted to smack himself for it. Why couldn't he have just kept it in his pants? Why had it been so important to get laid?

"I know you did," Gabrielle said flatly. She wondered if it would be better if Jack acted like he _had_ done something wrong. Maybe it would be easier to forgive him if he acted like he had done something that _needed_ to be forgiven... instead of putting it bluntly that he hadn't done anything wrong except maybe a case of bad timing.

"Would you like me to go?" Jack asked.

"I think that would be for the best," she said. He may not have done something wrong, exactly, but she still didn't want to be around him. What had been sexy a minute ago felt cheap and tawdry now. For all his insistence to the contrary, how much had she meant to him exactly that he could be attracted to her and go and sleep with someone else?

"OK," Jack said, and he left, not knowing what else he could do or say that would make her look at him the way she had a few minutes ago.

"OK – so she told you it was never going to happen, that she didn't trust you, that she couldn't be with you without thinking of you and Bianca – then she changes her mind over a month later and expects you to have been faithful to her without actually have been together or have had any hope of being together?" Dan asked incredulously when Jack explained what had happened when he got home. Jack nodded miserably. "Then she totally forfeits her right to be upset."

"Yeah, and I went out with her and had a fantastic time and then had sex with someone else," Jack argued.

Dan shrugged. "Bad timing, maybe poor judgement, but nothing she can get upset over. Dude, _you're not together_. She said _it wouldn't happen_. And who the hell has a good time with the wicked witch?" he asked.

"Gabrielle, when Stella needled her one too many times and she needled Stella right back," Jack said, grinning at the memory.

Dan couldn't help but grin, too. If anyone was capable of giving as good as she got from Stella Quade, it was Gabrielle. Dan didn't imagine the woman capable of taking much flak about herself, let alone Ben. "Whatever," Dan said. "The point is, she can't say you're not going to get back together, change her mind a month and something later, and be affronted that you haven't been celibate that whole time."

"You can't say we're not going to get back together, change your mind a month later, and be disappointed that I haven't been celibate that whole time," Jack parroted Dan's words to Gabrielle the next day.

"I know that, Jack."

But for all she knew that – and Jack had no doubt that someone as pragmatic and honest as Gabrielle _did_ know that – he could still hear the disappointment in her voice. The heart wanted what the heart wanted, he supposed – and she had wanted him to be patiently waiting for her like some chivalrous, honourable lover. Without even knowing that it was what she had wanted, no doubt. "Gabrielle," he said, trying to salvage the situation. "If I had known – if I'd had any idea – I wouldn't have done it. And if there's any hope for us, any hope at all, I can wait. I don't care how long for," he added.

Gabrielle looked at him for a second. She had no doubt that he was sincere – for the time being. But what happened if weeks or months went by and she still wasn't ready to get involved with him? Would he pressure her into it? Would he go ahead and sleep with someone else? Better not to give him hope – and hold him to expectations that it wasn't fair to hold him to. She shook her head. "No," she said, with as much firmness as she could muster given she didn't entirely believe her own words. "Last night was a mistake and you were right to think you were a free agent. I think it's best if we just stay friends. For Ben's sake," she added.

He nodded, doing his best not to look crushed. "If that's what you think," he said, willing her to change her mind.

"I do," she said, sounding incredibly convinced for how _un_convinced she actually was.

* * *

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that," Zoe told Jack matter-of-factly a few days later when he told her what had happened between him and Gabrielle.

"I know," he said, rubbing his cheek in an exaggerated fashion. Zoe wasn't strong enough to hurt a person, but he hoped to make her feel guilty. "Did you have to _hit_ me?"

"Well, sympathetic words weren't working," she said. "Jesus, have you not learnt _anything_?"

"And what was it I was supposed to learn? To never have sex again just in case she changes her mind about not wanting to get back with me?" he asked sarcastically.

"Exactly!" Zoe fired back, although she knew Jack had a point. Gabrielle wasn't exactly being fair, but still – couldn't Jack have waited more than, what had it been, a month?

Jack scowled at Zoe. "I should have gone to Jane or Lindsay," he whined.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "It's their professions to see to the welfare of children, of _course_ they're going to side with you and you know it and that's why you _didn't_ go complaining to them. You screwed up, Jack. _Again_."

He glowered. He had much preferred Dan's opinion that Gabrielle was entirely in the wrong... although Zoe had a point. He needed the opinion of someone who had a professional interest in Gabrielle being happy, and all Jane and Lindsay were likely to do was criticize her failures as a parent. "And what do I do to make it right?"

"You do what you were doing to make her change her mind about not getting back with you – except you don't screw it up by sleeping with someone else."

"But she said – "

"Yeah, she said that a month ago, too, and guess what, Jack? If you'd kept it in your pants, you'd be back with her," Zoe said unsympathetically. "So for fuck's sake, stop thinking about your dick and start thinking about the long term. And drink your beer. It's going flat."

He drank. Zoe might make him want to scream at her for her non-nonsense attitude to everything sometimes, but it was precisely that lack of pandering to him when he was feeling sorry for himself that made her such a valuable friend. "Hey, Sean seemed pissed with me," he commented. He knew about his and Zoe's relationship, and was quite flattered that not even Frank did. "Have I done something?"

"He thinks we're too close," Zoe said nonchalantly.

Jack's eyes widened with worry. "What did you tell him?" she asked.

"I said you'd been sexually abused as a teenager and I knew you from when you cheated on Gabrielle, got syphilis and slit your wrists over it," she teased, enjoying the way he looked about to have a heart attack. "Relax, Jack. I told him you're a highly discerning man with a penchant for making friends with attractive, intelligent blonds," she said. "Which he totally bought on account that the last celebrity you're familiar with is Grace Kelly."

Jack poked his tongue out. "That's not true."

"Lindsey Lohan doesn't count when you have a friend called Lindsay who's also a redhead. And speaking of which – take to hanging out with Jane. You have about as much chemistry with her than you do your _actual_ sister." And she chuckled at that, remembering Jane's attempt to convince Zoe that she was Jack's sister, despite their lack of common looks, last name or even accent.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Jack, based on our tests, Ben's intelligence is phenomenal. At least that of a ten-year-old, probably higher once we work on his literacy." So the principal of White's Academy, John Fitzgerald, said to Gabrielle and Jack – although he tended to speak to Jack. Beside him, Jack saw Gabrielle squirm. It was clear that Ben understood information that was way beyond the intellectual capacity of an ordinary six-year-old, but he lacked the literacy skills to read for himself. "We'd be happy to take him for next year's intake." Beside him, Jack saw Gabrielle straighten in pride and hope. A few months ago, she had thought Ben was intellectually slow; now he was being admitted into one of the best schools in the state, if not the country. "We just need his tuition fees."

"Tuition?" Jack asked. "I thought my work here qualifies Ben for free tuition."

"It qualifies your _children_ for free tuition," John clarified. He rifled through the papers on his desk, and came up with Ben's birth certificate, and Jack knew immediately what the problem was. Nowhere on it was his name.

"You can't possibly deny that he's my son," Jack argued. "He's the splitting image of me."

"That may be," John said. "But we can't be waiving fees for every child on the unsubstantiated claim that they're the children of staff. Honestly, it wasn't that long ago that we wouldn't even have admitted Ben because of the nature of his birth."

"You mean for being illegitimate," Jack said. "It was plenty long ago – you were going to admit _me_."

John frowned at that. His admission hadn't gotten that far for that to have been an issue; a review of his notes from twenty years ago said that his father had refused even free tuition. Why, John had no idea; parents weren't exactly lining up to _deny_ their children admittance into White's. "I don't know about that, I wasn't here at the time," he said. "And anyway, that's not the point. We don't _care_ about your marital status. Ben can be admitted regardless. We can't just take your word for it that he's your son; if we did, we could have every member of staff, paid and unpaid, claiming paternity to save people money."

_Somehow I doubt it_, Jack would thought; that would involve enough staff caring to help out friends who had children gifted enough to be admitted into White's. But despite that, he understood where John was coming from. There was no denying that he was Ben's father; you just had to look at the boy to know that. But he got that they couldn't just take his word for it. "Fine," he said. "What do I have to do then?"

"Have your name put on the birth certificate," John said.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He'd thought there would be more to it than that, heaps of red tape to go through. Which, he supposed, would have been true enough for most other people – but Jane had a finger in almost every department that had something to do with children, including the registry of births and deaths.

Beside him, Gabrielle asked, "What other options are there?"

Needless to say, Jack was surprised to hear that, and he shot her a quick questioning look that was more filthy than questioning. John looked at her in surprise. "Well, then you pay twelve and a half hundred dollars a term in tuition," he said.

Jack was become irritated and confused. Why was Gabrielle bringing this up? The interview came to a conclusion and Jack left with Gabrielle. "What the fuck was that about?" he asked; he had a sinking feeling what it was about.

"I just don't see the point in going through all that paperwork," Gabrielle said in a small voice, because she knew Jack knew the real reason and knew she wasn't going to be able to get much past him.

"What, so you'd rather he missed out on a first-class education?" he asked in that voice he used when he was being an intellectual snob and making a point about how almost no-one was as smart as him, ergo, no-one knew better than him.

"He's not going to be missing out; we just pay for his tuition," Gabrielle said.

"I am not paying for something I can get for free by claiming what's rightfully mine," Jack said. In his mind, he was killing two birds with one stone; he would be strengthening his claim to Ben while getting free tuition at the same time.

"What's rightfully yours?" Gabrielle scoffed, taking the moral high road. "What, so he's your property now?"

"No more than he is yours," Jack retorted. "You just don't want me having any say over him, do you?"

"That's not true."

"Yeah? Than what is it? Because from where I'm sitting, you've had no-one to tell you what to do for the last six years and now here I am."

"Yeah, and no-one to support me, either," Gabrielle retorted.

"And whose father's fault is that? You just don't want me having any claim to him. You like having me around but damned if you'll let me have any say in his life." A car drove out in front of Jack, narrowly missing him, and he slammed his hand down on the horn, furious. He had made a huge mistake in cheating on Gabrielle, and he deserved to be in her bad books because of it, but he didn't deserve to have missed out on the first six years of his son's life because of it. Russel had had no right to interfere like that, and now Gabrielle was using it as an excuse not to name him as Ben's father.

"Fine," Gabrielle said. "_I'll_ pay for the tuition."

"No, it's _not_ fine. It's the principle. What happens next time he needs me as his father? What if next time it's urgent, not just about tuition and you're not around?"

"Then call my father."

"I am not calling your fucking father when I'm right here. Besides, I'm sure he _likes_ not having his nose broken," he added sarcastically.

"How dare you!"

"How – dare – _I_?" Jack asked incredulously. "_He's_ the one who kept my letters from you. _He's_ the one who kept my son from me for six years. And _you're_ the one who doesn't want me to have any say in his life. You know what? I think you _like_ being the martyr. I think you _like_ going around acting like the hard-done-by single mother and having me around at the same time. You're quite happy to palm responsibility off onto me but give me no fucking rights."

"That's – not – true."

"Yeah? Then put my name on the birth certificate."

"Not when you're acting like a spoilt brat deprived of a toy."

"A _toy_? You think Ben is a _toy_ to me? Fuck you, Gabrielle." He braked hard in her driveway, and enjoyed the way she flinched as she was thrust forward in her seatbelt. _Good_, Jack thought spitefully. _I hope it fucking hurts_. "You know what? You want to be a single mother so badly, be my guest. Just don't go calling me in the middle of the night because suddenly it's not so easy without my support."

"Jack, don't be like this."

Jack clenched his jaw together and gripped the steering wheel. "Get out of my care before I say something else I'll regret," he spat. Gabrielle, torn between being scared of him when he was clearly angry and wanting to make it up for him, she decided the better of two evils was to get out of the car. She watched Jack go, worried about what he was capable of when he was in a mood like this.

"Gabrielle, did you and Jack have a fight?" Vincent asked her a few days later.

"Maybe," she said reluctantly. "Why?" He hadn't answered any of her text messages, and her voice messages went unreturned.

"He's disappeared. I think Jane knows where he is, but she's not saying."

"Disappeared?" Gabrielle asked dumbly.

"Disappeared," Vincent repeated, thinking she seemed to be having a hard time processing the idea. But then, for all their former intimacy, she didn't know Jack all that well. Like when he was upset about something, he holed up and felt sorry for himself over a bottle of scotch, and disappearing wasn't much of a stretch from that. "I thought maybe you guys had had a fight over Ben. It takes a lot to get him so upset that he ups and leaves. The only other time I know of is when Charlotte miscarried, and then he just stayed at home and drank himself stupid over it."

"We had a fight," Gabrielle admitted, and told Vincent about White's, and the birth certificate.

Vincent whistled appreciatively by the time she was finished. "I can't say I blame Jack," he said. "He's overreacted but he's been good with Ben and it wasn't his fault he didn't know about him."

"So it's mine, then?"

"I didn't say that. I'm saying I can understand why he's upset. I don't think what he's asking for is unreasonable. Try and see it from his perspective. He made a mistake in cheating on you, but that doesn't mean he deserves to not know about Ben. He's a natural dad, you only have to see him with Mary to know that – and Ben. All he's asking for is to be recognised as his dad."

Gabrielle bit her lip. "Even if I knew where he was, if I give in now he'll think he can ask for anything."

Vincent shrugged. "If that's what you think is best," he said, and it was clear from the tone in his voice that he didn't think that was what was for the best.

"Ben, sweetheart, why don't you have a shower? Your granddad's coming over," Gabrielle begged her son a few days later. Ben had become withdrawn and recalcitrant when Jack had failed to come over in his usual few-day period. Gabrielle had fobbed him off by telling him Jack was busy and would be by soon, but she didn't know how long she could keep it up. Ben was highly perceptive; she couldn't believe she hadn't picked that up before.

"Don't want to," Ben said sullenly. "I want my dad."

It was the first time he had referred to Jack as his dad, Gabrielle noted; she wondered if that was because he was being sullen and manipulative (something Jack was perfectly capable of being; snarkily she thought that it was one more thing he had inherited from his dad) or if it was because he had genuinely connected with Jack as his father. "He'll be over soon," she said helplessly.

"When?" Ben asked. "Dan says he's gone away."

When had he called Dan, Gabrielle wondered; hell, when had Jack given him his home phone number? Gabrielle supposed she should be pleased that Ben had thought for himself to call Jack, but she couldn't take much pleasure out of it. "I don't know where he is," Gabrielle admitted.

"He wouldn't leave me," Ben said stubbornly. "So he must have left _you_."

_Manipulative little shit_, Gabrielle thought. _Just like your father_. Of course he had to develop an extensive vocabulary and the intelligence to call Jack to cause her headaches. "Go have a shower," she ordered him.

Ben went, and stayed in his room with his books until Russel and her brother Ben arrived. (Gabrielle remembered, for the umpteenth time, that Ben was running low on books and his books seemed to be the only thing that made him happy without Jack being around; since she knew nothing about books appropriate for ten-year-old boys, let alone six-year-old boys with a ten-year-old intellect, she was going to have to talk to Leslie at some point.) "Hey," she greeted them.

"You look tired," was the first thing Russel said. He had never approved of Gabrielle coming to Sydney, and had just about blown his top when he found out she had run into Jack – Sydney was a city of, what, five million, what were the odds of him not only still being there but being at the one hospital Gabrielle had accepted a job? – and was enjoying a cordial relationship with him. The thought of Jack influencing his grandson, of Ben adoring Jack, made him fume. Jack Quade was not someone Russel wanted in his grandson's life.

"Jack's disappeared," Gabrielle said. "We had a fight over his name being on the birth certificate and he left. No-one knows where he is – or if Jane does, she's not saying anything – and Ben's taken it badly."

"It's for the best," Russel said. "Better that he leaves now then Ben grows even more attached to him."

"He didn't _leave_, dad, he's got too much in Sydney to leave. He's gone to teach me a lesson. You know what it was about? Ben got accepted into this terrific school where Jack volunteers but he only gets free tuition if Jack's recognised as his father."

"I'll pay the tuition," Russel volunteered. Then, "Really? What's this school called?"

"White's. It's, like, one of the best school in New South Wales. It's got the biggest representation at AUMEL. There's only half a dozen staff at All Saints that went to White's. And Jack doesn't care about the tuition – well, he does, but not as much as he cares about the birth certificate. You don't know what he's like with kids, dad. He's got this goddaughter he's devoted to. Sometimes I think she means more to him than Ben does 'cos he's had her since she was born."

"Mary Grey."

Gabrielle looked surprised. "That's right. How did you know?"

"I kept track of him in _The Scene_ for a while," Russel admitted. "His name's been connected with hers."

Gabrielle was surprised to hear her father had kept track of Jack through _The Scene_; it was hardly staple reading material for a farmer. So he must have done it covertly. The thought irritated her; he had shared none of this with her. Hell, Jane Grey had been a prominent member of the All Saints staff for a good five years, any magazine article that covered her in _The Scene_ would have mentioned that. Her father could have at least contacted Jane if he had wanted to. "She's just his goddaughter," she said. "He told me."

"And you believed him?" Russel countered. "Wasn't she friends with Bianca Miller? What does that say about him? If he was seriously about being sorry for what he did to you, wouldn't he want nothing to do with either of them?"

Gabrielle shrugged. She didn't know that Jack had tried to kill himself so she didn't know how deeply his bond with Jane ran."I don't know. He said he took our breakup badly and Jane was there for him."

"I'll bet she was."

_Great_, she thought. Her father was in a bad mood over Jack and her son was in a bad mood over Jack. What exactly had she done to deserve being stuck between two strong-willed men who thought they both had the greater claim to her and Ben? "Ben's in his room," she said. "I'll just get him."

She called him, and he came out reluctantly. Russel smiled when he saw him. No matter what his flaws were in regards to being an overprotective father, there was no denying that he adored Ben. "Heya, mate," he said, and Gabrielle cringed to hear the condescension in his voice. She had told him that, rather than being intellectually challenged, Ben was actually incredibly bright and bored stupid, but Russel didn't seem to quite grasp that. Ben had flourished under the way Jack would treat him like he was ten years old. "I got you a present."

Ben tentatively reached for it, and Gabrielle realised too late from the size and shape of it what it was. "Dad, that's not appropriate – " she started to say, but Ben was already tearing into it.

He realised a howl of fury when he saw what it was. "Hate Spot!" he screamed. "Spot's for _babies_. Mary's a baby but her grandad doesn't get her Spot!"

Russel looked at Gabrielle in confusion. "He likes Paul Jennings and Roal Dahl, mostly," she explained. "Jack's got a friend who's a children's librarian and she's awesome with him. She knew straight away what was appropriate for him. I've been trying to tell you, dad. He's got the intelligence of a ten-year-old. He doesn't like Spot. I don't think he ever did."

"I thought Jack was just saying that to make a point," Russel said.

"He _was_ making a point. Ben's phenomenal. He doesn't read too well but that's only because he's never been taught; he can understand perfectly if you read _to _him. And Ben, Mary's not a baby. You know Jane doesn't like it when you call Mary a baby."

"I bet he's with Jane and Mary," Ben said.

Gabrielle gritted his teeth. Weather Ben was just taking a shot in the dark or weather he was that perceptive, she didn't know, but the reality was he couldn't very well have been with Jane; at least, Jane was most likely of anyone to know where she was. "He is not," she snapped. "I already asked her."

"Right, because she would _never_ lie for him," Russel chimed in.

"Oh, will you _stop it_," Gabrielle snapped at her father. "_None_ of this would have happened if you'd just passed on the damn letters." And she stormed off to her room and left Ben and her father to sort themselves out. Let _Russel_ deal with Ben's tantrums.

Ben senior came in the front door at that point, carrying their stuff. "I miss something?" he asked casually. "I thought I heard shouting. Heya, mate," he said to his nephew in a condescending voice. "You like your book?"

Ben was lethargic. The _Spot_ episode seemed to have drained the life out of him. Russel tried to follow Gabrielle's suggestion and read the books his grandson liked, and Ben senior could volunteer a few titles his nephew might be interested in in lieu of Lindsay's expertise, but Ben had no interest in any of them. He just lay in bed and was almost as unresponsive as he had been before Gabrielle had taken him off his meds. "He doesn't want to eat," Gabrielle said sadly to Russel. "I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry," Russel said. "I shouldn't have brought him that book. I didn't realise how serious the situation was. I thought he just wanted to believe his son was so smart, and you wanted to believe it too."

"Of course I wanted to believe it, doesn't make it any less true. I'll take him in to see Jane. She might even relent and tell me where Jack is. At the very least, he adores her and Mary." She laughed hollowly. "One of our doctors, Zoe, knew Jack from way back when Jane attempted to convince her she was his sister. Zoe didn't buy it for a second but she thinks it about sums up their relationship. Jane's like an aunt to Ben and Mary's like a cousin."

"And there's really never been anything between them?"

"I don't think so. He says there wasn't and I believe him. He's been honest with me about other things that he, uh, didn't have to be honest about."

Russel got what she meant, but let it go. "Fine, we'll take him to hospital. I'd like to meet this Jane."

"Dad, don't pick a fight with her. She's not responsible for what Jack and Bianca did."

"I wasn't going to pick a fight with her. I would just like to meet the woman Ben sees as an aunt."

Gabrielle looked at her father dubiously. Somehow, she didn't believe him.

Ben brightened considerably when she saw Jane, and it broke Gabrielle's heart. She knew Ben was lashing out at her because of Jack's departure, that it was nothing personal, but it still broke her heart. "Hey Ben," she said in that serious way she did when dealing with, and Russel immediately understood from the way Ben responded to her that that was the way he liked to be spoken to. "What's up?"

"I want my dad."

"He needed to go away for a bit," Jane said. "He has other people who need him."

"I'm his son."

"I know you are, mate. But he can't be with you all the time." She spoke the words with heavy irony; she knew how much Jack _did_ want to be with Ben all the time. "But you know what would make him really happy? If, when he got back, your reading had improved."

"I ran out of books. And grandpa got me Spot. Mary's grandpa doesn't give her Spot."

Jane laughed at that. "No, he doesn't. But I tell you what, I'll give Lindsay a call, and if that fails, I think we have some _Harry Potter_ in our library."

"I don't like her," Russel said to Gabrielle when Jane had taken Ben up to paediatrics. He especially didn't like the way Ben had warmed so easily to Jane; he had never witnessed Ben so friendly to someone else. Just because the woman was super-smart whose job it was to take care of children didn't make her a better mum than his daughter.

"She's very good at her job, dad. And he responds to her."

"Exactly. It's not natural for a boy to respond to some strange woman better than he does his own mum."

"She's a paediatrician, dad. It's her _job_ to her children to respond to her."

"Then there's her relationship with Jack. A gorgeous woman, and you really think he's never been involved with her? What other reason do you think he would have for sticking around?"

"How dare you," Jane's voice came from behind them.

"Jane, don't," Zoe said in a quiet warning voice.

Jane shook with fury. "No. How _dare_ he talk about Jack like that. He doesn't know him at all. He doesn't know _me_ at all. For your information, _sir_," she said to Russel, stressing the _sir_ so he was left in no doubt that she didn't think him the least bit worthy of the title, "Jack's my best friend and he's been there for Mary and I just because that's the kind of guy he is. You want to point fingers at the person responsible for Jack not being there for Gabrielle? Go look in a fucking mirror."

Russel responded to Jane's fury with anger of his own. "Dare dare _you_," he said. "_You_ know nothing about what our life has been like."

"Yeah? I know if you weren't such a stupid country hick you'd know more then what goes on in anyone's life but your own. You know who Mary's dad is? One of my professors at uni. Jack offered to marry me just because he didn't want me to go through it alone. And if he was like that with me, then what do you think he would have been like with Gabrielle? But of course, you don't know, because you treated her like a child and didn't pass on her letters. So don't you _dare_ mouth of crap that you know nothing about because he's one of the most wonderful, loyal people I've ever met. Here," she said, shoving Ben towards him, _Harry Potter_ in hand. "You think you've been such a great granddad? Knock yourself out. But lay off the _Spot_."

Ben, who had witnessed the exchanged, look at his grandfather in confusion. "What does she mean?" he asked.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about," Russel said.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest and looked every bit like Jack at that point. "Jane's cool," he said loftily, making it clear that he didn't think his grandfather fit that criteria. "What did she mean?"

"He thought he was doing the right thing," Gabrielle said. "He didn't pass on some letters your dad sent me."

Ben's fury over being given a Spot book was nothing compared to his fury now. "You didn't want my dad to have me!" he screamed.

"Ben, that's not – "

He ran to his grandfather and kicked him in the shins with all the strength his six-year-old body possessed. "I hate you!" he screamed. "You kept my dad from me! I HATE YOU!"

"Hey? What the hell's going on? I get this call that you need books and pass Jane – who's really upset, by the way – on my way in?" Lindsay said over the uproar. She was addressing Gabrielle but when Ben saw her, he ran to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You OK, mate?" she asked. "What's wrong? Angry young men don't get books, you know. And I have a present for you, too." She patted a calico book bag with the South Duncraig logo on it and _Ben Jaeger_ printed on it.

Ben was torn between being angry at his grandfather and longing for the books. The books won. "My grandad didn't want my dad to see me," he sniffled.

"That's not very good. But you know what? You have your dad now," Lindsay pointed out.

"No I don't. He's gone."

"Ah, I didn't know that, I haven't seen him for a while," Lindsay said, flashing Gabrielle a small apologetic smile as if to acknowledge that they night they had spent together had been a one-off. "But I know he loves you."

"Then why isn't he here?"

"I don't know," Lindsay admitted. "But you know what? I've known him for many years and I know he's never been as happy as when he had you. So if he's not here, he has a very good reason not to be."

Ben nodded, Lindsay's words soothing him. "But I want my dad here," he sniffled.

"I know you do, sweetheart. But he'll be back, I promise. Here, why don't you take these books and practice your reading. Think how proud your dad will be when he gets back and you can show him how much better you are at it."

"That's what Jane said."

"That's because Jane's a very smart lady." She looked at Gabrielle. "Is there a tea-room or something where he can sit down and have something to eat?"

Gabrielle nodded, feeling jealously towards the woman who was so good with Ben – and Jack. "Of course." She directed Lindsay and Ben into the tea room and settled Ben down with juice and a sandwich. Then she directed Lindsay into the sun-room.

"OK, what's going on?" Lindsay demanded, and Gabrielle told her. "What, and you _don't_ think he's got a right to be upset?"

Gabrielle squirmed. Seeing how upset Ben was made it a whole lot harder to justify. "Well, not exactly," she said.

"Then do you _want_ an antagonistic relationship with him?"

"No."

"Then what the hell are you doing? Jack's crazy about Ben. You keep going with this and you'll alienate him and ruin his relationship with Ben – and Ben's with you. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not."

"Then give him whatever he wants. Because you're not going to find a better dad than Jack. Look," she said gently, "Jack and I, we're just mates. We have a good rapport and yeah, we have chemistry. We have fun. But there's never been anything more to it than that. I've always known he was in love with someone else."

"Who?" Gabrielle asked.

Lindsay laughed at that. "You, you idiot," she said. "I don't think he's ever stopped being in love with you. If you let him, he'd be great for you and Ben. So for the love of God, give him whatever he wants or you'll ruin all three of your lives over it."

"I want to move in."

"What? Jack, you can't be serious. I already gave you the birth certificate. I'm not interested in getting back with you."

"Neither am I, you dolt." Jack lied, because in the week he had been away, almost all he had thought about was how different things could have been if he had known about Gabrielle's pregnancy in the first place. "I get that I've ruined things with you for good. I'm not talking about getting back together, I'm talking about moving in so I can be close to Ben. Look," he went on to explain, "I can get my own place but I don't want him to be split between the two places. This seems like the best solution. I'll pay rent, I'll sign a rental agreement if you want, and I'll have my own room. Look, you'll have me around all the time – think about how much easier that will make things for you."

His arguments were persuasive. Gabrielle remembered what Lindsay had said about him. "What about your feelings for me?" she asked.

He shrugged, as if they were no big deal. "I can deal – I've been dealing with working with you, haven't I?" he pointed out. Gabrielle nodded, disappointed that he was being so nonchalant about it. "This is really important, and I'm not going to jeapordise it by making a move on you."

"Oh. OK," she said, wishing he would show more passion towards her. Maybe Lindsay had been wrong, maybe he was over her. "Then I think it should be Ben's choice."

"Ben, how would you feel about me moving in?" Jack asked him later that day.

"Like, you and mum getting back together?" he asked excitedly.

"No. Like me having my own room. But I'll be around all the time, much more than I am at the moment. What do you say?"

Ben thought about it for a second, swallowing his disappointment that his parents weren't getting back together. But then there was the thought that his dad would be around all the time – like when he got home from his new school. He was super-excited about it, and even more excited to think that his dad would be home every night.

"Just remember, sweetheart, Jack's a surgeon, he won't be around every night," Gabrielle put in, sensing her son's thoughts. Now that he had Jack around, he was a lot easier to understand.

"Yes, but I'll be around as much as I can. I've talked to my boss and he'll give me as many day shifts as he can – so I'll be home most nights," Jack countered. He wondered if Gabrielle was trying to dissuade Ben. "Besides," he added, smiling sweetly at Gabrielle. "I've seen the way she balances the books. I'll be much better helping you with your maths homework."

Gabrielle poked her tongue out at him. Ben didn't exactly understand the exchange between them, but he knew that they were being friendly. And maybe if they lived together, they would have even more opportunity to be friendly. "OK," he agreed.

Jack flashed a triumphant smile at Gabrielle. She couldn't help but smiling indulgently back at him. He looked even more pleased than Ben.

A week later, once Jack was mostly moved in, after dinner and putting Ben to bed they were watching a DVD together. "I'm beginning to think this was a really good idea," she admitted. "Ben loves having you here at night and in the morning."

"Just how I thought," Jack said, a little smugly.

8


	15. Chapter 15

_2007 (season 10)_

Jack was chuffed to be a registered surgeon – he was almost sorry that Bianca Frost had gone now, because he would love to throw it in her face – and it almost made him forget that Mike Vlasek was back. Mike Vlasek who had walked out on him and the hospital six months ago without an explanation and left Jack to the mercy of Bianca Frost and other residents who resented his experience under Mike's tutelage.

Suddenly, he recognised the patient on the table. Like he could ever forget. That tattoo, that face – he could swear he could smell the same aftershave, and it made him want to be sick.

"Jack?" Mike asked. For someone who had been determined he was perfectly fine in the OR without him, Jack was acting really unprofessionally. "Jack?" He just stood there, frozen – nerves, Mike assumed. "OK, get out," he said, taking over from his former protégé, and Jack bolted.

"It was the strangest thing," he said to Zoe later, who he was trying to impress and he took every opportunity to talk to her. "He just froze. He's always talked about how much he wants to fly solo, but minutes after he got in there, he just froze."

"That is odd," Zoe agreed. "I've never known Jack not to have a ready response." At least not in a professional capacity, and she had to give him credit, he went to great lengths to keep his personal and professional lives private.

Mike laughed. "That's right, I forget you and Jack go way back. You must be the only one who understands what goes through that boy's head."

Now it was Zoe's turn to laugh. "Think of Jack as a complicated algebra equation. Once you get the logic to it, it's simply to predict; just not many people ever get to understand the logic to it."

"Excellent analogy. So how does that explain why he froze in surgery."

"I don't know. Someone from his past, maybe? He's really sensitive about being from a working-class background." She laughed. "When I met him, he spoke like a total working-class boy; I think he's spent the last eight years mimicking Jane. He still drops his g's when he's tired. Or drunk."

Mike laughed at that; it was something he would like to witness. If nothing else, it would give him leverage over the boy. "I thought of that," he said. "Patrick's very educated middle-class. Not someone who would socialise with the Greys, but not someone who would socialise with the Quades, either."

Zoe stopped in her tracks at the name to a point Mike shot his arm out to steady her. "I'm sorry, _who?_" she asked.

"Patrick Wesley, the surgical patient," Mike said. "Why, does it sound familiar?"

"Um... yeah," Zoe said, taking off before Mike could ask any more.

* * *

"Jesus Christ, what did you use, hospital soap and a laundry brush?" Zoe asked Jack pointedly. "You look awful." He looked like he had scrubbed every inch of his skin with a hard brush. She couldn't blame him for feeling dirty, but that didn't stop him from looking awful.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. "What did you tell Mike?"

"Nothing. He mentioned you froze at the table and that the guy's name was Patrick Wesley. I didn't get this position by forgetting stuff like that, Jack. Come on, I'm taking you to my place. Rebecca will be over soon."

"You called my _sister_!" Jack squawked, panic written all over his face. "Jesus, Zoe, how did you get to this point without learning a thing about doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"I didn't tell her anything," Zoe said indignantly. "Well, I said you'd had a crap day and you could do with drinks with a colleague. For someone who goes to AUMEL, she doesn't know much about a whole bunch of medical words being thrown at her."

"Says the woman who didn't get _into_ AUMEL," Jack countered. "We didn't associate much with the law students at the time and I don't think anything's changed."

"You look awful," Rebecca said when she arrived shortly after. "What did you do, use a laundry brush?" Zoe stifled a grin at that.

"Got blood all over me," Jack lied.

Rebecca made a face. She hated it when Jack grossed her out with descriptions of various medical procedures, so she took his word for it rather than have it occur to her that surgeons got blood on them all the time and they didn't use a laundry brush to get it off. "Whatever, where's Ben?" she asked.

"In his room. He's supposed to be practising his letters but he keeps going back to his reading instead."

"And just think, three months ago you were bitching that he couldn't read very well," Zoe pointed out.

"I'll teach him how to play scrabble," Rebecca offered.

"You don't play fair, you keep using legal terms," Jack countered.

"As opposed to _you_ using medical terms," she retorted.

"Your mum was a barmaid, wasn't she?" Zoe asked in the car. Jack nodded. "I wonder what intelligence she had hidden away that she managed to produce you two."

Jack shrugged. "Never got around to asking her. She died a month after I met her. Only even got in touch with me 'cos she wanted someone to look after Bec."

"I'm sure she thought about you over the years, Jack," Zoe said soothingly.

Jack shrugged again. "Doesn't mean a hell of a lot to me after what I went through because she – what, decided her not being hampered by a two-year-old wasn't as important as me not being molested."

"Oh, come on, Jack. She wouldn't have thought that."

"You know what? I am so fucking tired of hearing that lousy parents weren't to know. There should be a law that you can't have kids until you can prove you're a decent human being."

"You probably wouldn't have been born under those circumstances," Zoe pointed out.

"Right now that sounds _really_ good."

She drove in silence until she got to her place. "What's your poison?" she asked. "Help yourself to whatever in the bar. Just not the whiskey. It's Sean's and he doesn't like you much as it is. Then sit down and I'll make you something to eat. You look ready to collapse."

Jack sat, vodka in hand. "What happened?" she asked him after she reheated some leftovers.

"Nothing."

She reached out to touch him and he flinched, either from the invasion of his privacy or touching harshly-scrubbed skin. "You wouldn't have done this to yourself if it was nothing," she said softly.

"You know what I kept thinking, Zo? That men like that will look at my son and – " he shuddered. "I don't even have to worry about _him_, Ben's too young for his tastes. But – people who do stuff like that don't just stop after the first time and think, shit, this is a bad thing to do, I should stop. It's been fifteen years. If he cycles through them two years at a time, that's eight boys. And that doesn't even count if he had a few going at once. I mean, I – it was like, twice a week and people have way higher sex drives than that. _I_ have a higher sex drive than that." He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, shaking uncontrollably.

Zoe reached out and gently touched him on the shoulder, not sure if his shirt was providing some relief between her touch and his skin or he was just too distraught to care. "You can let it out," she said encouragingly.

Before too long he was sobbing into her lap, his fingers clenched tightly into his skirt. Most of what he was saying was unintelligible, but she got that he desperately needed a cry. She let him cry until he either passed out or fell asleep; she figured oblivious, regardless of where he got it from, had to be good for him. Except now he was curled up with his head on her lap and she didn't have the heart to disturb him. It was a good thing her bag, with a book in it, was within her reach. She started to read and let Jack sleep.

An hour or so later, she heard the key in the front lock and knew it was Sean. She knew he wouldn't be impressed that she'd had Jack over, but she figured Jack's peace of mind was far more important than Sean's petty insecurities.

Sean immediately saw Zoe with Jack and glowered. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

She raised her fingers to her mouth in a silencing motion. "He's asleep, give me a sec," she said, easing herself out from underneath Jack's head. She gestured for Sean to follow him into her bedroom.

"OK, so what the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded again.

"He's had a rough day."

"Then let him go to Gabrielle!"

"He can't talk to her like he can to me."

Sean glowered at Zoe. "You're not his doctor, Zoe," he said.

"I _was_, and this is got to do with why I was his doctor in the first place. Look, I can't talk to you about this, Sean. You know the rules."

"I know you spend an awful lot of time for someone you treated six years ago," Sean said sullenly.

Zoe's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"It means _everyone_ knows about his reputation. How do you think it makes me feel, hearing people talk about my girlfriend and the amount of time she spends with the hospital's biggest slut! And you don't exactly have a sterling history yourself," he added nastily.

She flashed her eyes at him. "How dare you," she said in a cold voice. She had told Sean about her marriage breaking down because she had cheated, not expecting him to throw it back in her face.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when even Gabrielle notices how much time you guys spend together?"

_If only Gabrielle knew_, she thought. "You don't trust me," she said flatly.

"You're not exactly giving me reason to."

It felt like a punch in the gut. So she didn't have the most sterling history when it came to fidelity, but that didn't mean she was about to do it again – and the idea of _Jack_ of all people, who she was fond of but very much aware of his emotional problems. "Get out," she snapped.

"You're choosing him over me?" Sean asked incredulously.

"You're not giving me much choice," Zoe countered. "You don't trust me, I don't see any point in you being here." _Or any future for us_, she thought sadly.

Sean glared at her and realised she wasn't going to back down. "Fine," he snarled. "I hope you two are very happy together." And he stormed out, miraculously managing to not wake Jack when he slammed the door. Zoe collapsed onto her bed, shocked about what had just transpired. And angry. Who the hell did Sean think he was, accusing her of cheating of him? Of not understanding that she had a moral obligation to Jack as both doctor and friend? He said he liked her for precisely those qualities – but only, she guessed, when it came to women.

She started to cry.

* * *

"What's this?" she asked Jack the next morning when she woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs.

"Breakfast," he said. "I figured I owed you thanks. I was a mess last night."

"I noticed." She reached her hand up to his face and rotated his head so he was facing her. His skin was red and raw, and she grimaced. "I have some body lotion if you want it."

He made a face. "Is that the crap women have that smells of vanilla and strawberries?" he asked. Zoe nodded. "I think I'd prefer the way things are."

Zoe smirked. Typical proud, stubborn male. "Suit yourself."

He looked at her intently for a few seconds, and cocked his head inquisitively. "You've been crying," he noted.

She stepped back from him as if she could distance herself from his observations in doing so. "It's nothing," she lied.

"Is it about Sean?" he asked. She looked away, which Jack took to be a _yes_. "He doesn't like me much. We've been spending a lot of time together and I don't have the best reputation in the world."

"Neither do I, remember?"

His eyes narrowed. "Wait – he thinks we're having it off with each other?" he asked. He understood why Sean didn't like the situation, but it was quite a leap from that to thinking there was something going on with them. "And here was me thinking everyone but Gabrielle knew how I felt about her," he said dryly, trying to lighten the mood. "Forget about it," he said dismissively. "He doesn't deserve you."

To her shame, she felt tears start to well in her eyes again. "I know," she said. "It's just been so _frustrating_, not being able to tell him about you and I. It's so stupid for him to be jealous when it's miles away from what he thinks it is."

Jack hadn't realised Zoe had been going to such lengths to protect his secrets, to a point she had let it jeapordise her relationship with Sean rather than betray his confidence. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder, touched that she was so loyal. "Thanks," he said huskily. "It's good to know I have a friend like you."

He found Sean the next day in the ED. "You," he said, "come with me." Sean crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Jack, no interest in doing anything that the younger man wanted him to do. "You want to know the story between me and Zoe, then come with me," Jack said testily.

Reluctantly, Sean followed him into an empty consult room. Jack leaned against the end of the bed, gripping the frame, palms facing inwards. "What I'm going to tell you no-one else but Zoe knows," he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. "Not even Gabrielle. So if it gets out, I'll know it was you."

"Jack, I wouldn't – "

"Shut up, Sean. I don't like talking to this and I wouldn't even both if Zoe wasn't so upset. Personally, I think she's better off without you if you're going to accuse her of crap, but she doesn't think so and I want whatever makes her happy." Chastised, Sean was quiet. He felt a sense of foreboding in Jack's demeanour. He seemed genuinely agitated, and not because he had been caught out with someone else's girlfriend.

Jack took a deep breath. "I was sexually abused for two years when I was a teenager," he said flatly. "Among other things, he raped me. When I tried to tell my step-mother about it, she beat the crap out of me for making up crap about an _upstanding member of the community_," he said bitterly. "He got bored of me after two years, moved on to someone younger and less used, I guess. Do you have any idea what it's like to present with tertiary syphilis at sixteen? My doctor looked at me like I was scum."

"Jack – "

Jack glared at Sean. "I told you to shut up," he snapped. Sean looked suitably chastised and kept quiet. "Bianca gave me syphilis again and on top of Gabby leaving me – I couldn't handle it, I drank a lot, took a whole pile of valium then slit my wrists. I was terrified in hospital because they had to restrain me and I _hate_ being restrained." He shuddered, remembering the complete loss of control over his own body. "Zoe was the one who worked it out. She stayed with me and calmed me down, breaking a few rules in the process. Then she organised for me to have a year off. She was the first person I had who was supposed to look after my best interests and actually _did_. I owe her so much, her and Jane both. So don't you _dare_ think anything bad about us because it's not like that. I only wish it was. The reason I was at her place yesterday? The guy who did it was a patient in surgery and I freaked out. She was worried about me 'cos Mike was worried about me. " He let go of the edge of the bed to run his fingers through his hair. "Look, Zoe means a lot to me but only as a mate. If you man enough to be secure in that, then fine, but if you want to fight with me over her then I'll win, because I need her far more than you do. Are we clear on that?"

Sean nodded, and it seemed OK for him to speak now. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, exactly. You _assumed_ that because we've both cheated in the past then that's what we were doing. I'll have you know I detest cheaters."

"I'm sorry," Sean repeated in a small voice.1"Are you going to cut me some slack or just ride me over it forever more?"

Jack shrugged. "Fine, whatever," he said. He was starting to feel a little sick for thinking about it.

Sean started to go, then stopped. "Wait – you said Gabrielle doesn't know?" he said, and Jack nodded slightly. "You don't think maybe that's something she should know about?"

Jack shrugged again. "She was so young when I first met her. I mean, she was only two years younger than me but I was never young like that. I don't think she could have fathomed something like that. I still don't."

"Oh, come off it, Jack. She was a teenage single mother. She hasn't exactly had the easiest of lives herself." But when Jack glared at him again Sean decided it was best not to push it.

He went to see Zoe that evening. "Jack told me everything," he said, then added, "about being abused, about trying to kill himself, about you treating him," because he knew if he didn't expand it would sound to Zoe like he was fishing for information, hoping _she_ would tell him what he needed to know. "Jesus, I can't believe it. I thought you and he were – "

"Yeah, we worked that out," Zoe said. "Sean, you don't know either of us at all if you thought that of it."

"Well what was I supposed to think?" Sean asked indignantly, then realised that now wasn't the best time to push it. Jack and Zoe were clearly very fond of each other, and now that he understood their relationship was based on friendship and professional respect for one another. "Look, I'm sorry. I had no idea what he'd been through. Can we try again? Please? I can't believe how much I've missed you."

An unfair a conclusion as it had been to jump to, Zoe could sort of see how Sean had jumped to that conclusion. And he was clearly very remorseful, both for jumping too the wrong conclusion and for breaking up with her. "If you _ever_ question my integrity like that again – "

Sean nodded. "Anything," he agreed. Zoe's body language told him that it was OK to hug her, and he did. He was relieved when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. "He's a good kid," Sean admitted gruffly. "I don't think I'd talk about something like that to someone I didn't like after they'd behaved like a jerk."

"Yeah," Zoe said, agreeing to both Jack being a good kid and Sean behaving like a jerk. She made a mental note to get Jack something to say thankyou. A puppy, maybe. Ben would be sure to love a puppy.

* * *

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in going out with me," Doctor Mark Foster asked Gabrielle a few weeks later. He was an oncologist who had been paying her a bit of attention lately, and she couldn't help but be flattered by it. She was a single mother and hardly a rival for Jennifer Hawkins in the looks department, neither of which made her a magnet to men; and besides that, there was Jack, who tended to scare men off without actually doing anything that she could pinpoint and complain about.

"When?" she asked.

"Friday night."

"I'll have to check with Jack."

Mark looked confused. "I'm sorry, I thought you guys weren't together. I wouldn't have asked you out if I had known otherwise."

Gabrielle laughed at that. "Oh, no, we're not together. It's just Ben doesn't get along with many strangers – or, rather, he tends to outsmart them all – so there aren't a lot of people I trust to leave him with. I just meant I needed to check with Jack to make sure he's free, or find someone else. Can I get back to you in a few hours?"

"Sure."

She found Jack in the surgeon's lounge, nose in a book. "Will you be free on Friday night to look after Ben?"

"I guess, why?"

"Mark Foster asked me out."

"Oh." Jack was surprised at just how deflated he felt to hear that. He had always thought that he would be the first of them to move on – after all, it wasn't like he was short of offers, it was just that none of the _interested_ him. And now she had a date and was asking him to look after Ben so she could go out with someone else. He couldn't begrudge he wanting a life, but still – he had always thought that he would be the first to move on... or that they would end up back together. "Sure," he said.

She noted the deflated tone in his voice. He had never said anything about getting back together with her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was just keeping his feelings to himself. "Are you OK?" she asked, part of her hoping it _was_ because he was disappointed she was making plans to date someone else.

"Yeah, fine. Just surprised, that's all."

She bristled at that. She knew what he was thinking; that he was a single mother who wasn't exactly supermodel material, it was surprising that she should have someone interested in dating her; and a young doctor, at that. It might only be what everyone else was thinking, but still, it pissed her off royally that _Jack_ was thinking it. "What, that someone _other_ than you might be interested in me?" she asked testily.

"That's not what I said."

"You don't have to say it, Jack. It's quite obvious you're thinking it. Jealous that I have a date and you don't?" she asked.

"I've had plenty of offers, thankyouverymuch," he retorted testily. Was it _that_ obvious that he was jealous as all hell that she had a date? He hated to think that the fact he was being so petty and jealous was written all over his face. "I can always give Lindsay a call if I want."

_See, you don't like it, either_, he thought with perverse satisfaction when he saw her flinch. "Whatever," she said as loftily as she could manage, trying to sound like it didn't mean anything to her if Jack wanted to go chasing other women. "Can you look after Ben or not?"

Jack shrugged as if to say it didn't mean a thing to him if Gabrielle wanted to go out with someone else. "Sure," he said coolly.

"Thanks," she said, just as coolly.

* * *

"He's doing so well at school. The principle reckons he could be top of his class by the end of the year. I can't believe I thought he had learning difficulties."

Mark smiled. He personally had no interest in Ben Jaeger, but it was tolerable hearing about him given how crazy she was about him. "It's an easy mistake to make when you don't have access to the kind of testing facilities we do here. It can't have been easy for you, being a single mother."

"Jane Grey does it," Gabrielle said, deflecting the acknowledgement, although it was nice to be recognised.

"Jane Grey is one of the most brilliant paediatricians I've ever met. I'm sure being a mum comes as naturally to her as breathing. Not that you're not an excellent nurse yourself."

Gabrielle blushed at that. "I have a good team," she said.

Mark laughed. "Don't be so modest. Everyone says what a good job you do with Frank Campion. He's not the easiest head of department to get along with."

Gabrielle shrugged. "He's actually far more open-minded and less cranky than a lot of the doctors I worked with in the country. Plus. I met some of the people Jack went to uni with."

Mark laughed again. "AUMEL students certainly tend to think they're a breed unto themselves," he agreed. "Just look at the way Jack carries on about you."

"I'm sorry?"

"He's scared off most of the men who are interested in you," he said matter-of-factly.

"He has not!" Gabrielle said hotly. Then, "Really? Other men have been interested in me?"

Mark laughed dryly. "If the way you say what's on your mind wasn't charming, I'd be insulted, wanting to know if other men are interested in you while you're on a date with me. Of course they have been. You're attractive, intelligent – what's not to like?"

Gabrielle found herself blushing hotly at that, not least at the thought of Jack scaring off potential dates. Of course, he had no right to do that, but – "Surely you can't be surprised," Mark said, watching her carefully. "Everyone knows he's still in love with you."

"He is not," she said, gratefully shovelling food into her mouth so she wouldn't have to talk anymore. But even if she had made it clear she wasn't interested in talking about it anymore, she couldn't help thinking about it. Had Lindsay been right? But she couldn't be – Jack had done nothing to suggest he was still interested in her. And what had that crack been about him giving her a call if he wanted? No, he couldn't still be in love with her. Besides, they hadn't reconciled for long enough for him to fall in love with her, anyway.

The evening ended and Mark took her home. "Thanks for tonight, I had a great time," she said, meaning it. "It's been a while since I had a date." Since Jack had taken her out months ago, and before that, since they had been together in Canberra.

"Glad I could be of service."

"Look, I'd invite you in, but – " Gabrielle started to explain. She could see the flickering of the TV through the window that Jack was up – she wondered if he was waiting for her. It was hardly conducive to inviting someone in.

"I get it. I'm already on Quade's turf," Mark said drily, and he leaned in to kiss her. It was a pleasant kiss, certainly better than Steve Taylor's brief attempts at foreplay... and for a little while she could forget just how good a kisser Jack was. It was nice to be paid attention by an eligible young man and she responded as well as she could, albeit a little awkwardly. It wasn't the most comfortable of places, the passenger seat of a car, but she didn't dare let him come in the house.

She felt Mark's hands sliding up the front of her shirt and tried to relax. She had no idea what was appropriate for a first date; with Jack, everything had felt so right and comfortable, and he had taken things slowly on account of her age. But she was twenty-four now, not seventeen, and she couldn't expect Mark to be happy with a goodnight kiss.

After a few minutes, she started to relax and enjoy the sensation of Mark's hands on her bare skin as he unbuttoned her skirt. This wasn't too hard, she thought, and it wasn't like they could go too far in the front of a car. He wasn't Jack, but he was hardly inexperienced and he knew how to touch a woman. She arched her neck and enjoyed it as Mark ran kisses over her bare skin. She started to feel hot and sexy and was beginning to think that this whole moving on thing was easier and more enjoyable than she had thought. Mark squeezed her waist in a particularly enjoyable way and she arched her back and groaned with pleasure. "Jack," she cried out on instinct. "Jack..."

She realised immediately what she had done and half a second later, Mark withdrew from her. "I'm sorry," she said, shame flooding through her body and turning her face bright red.

"Get out," Mark said in a cool voice that made Gabrielle feel even more ashamed of herself. She grabbed her bag and bolted out of the car, stumbling blindly towards the front door.

Jack was waiting up for her – although he had told himself that he couldn't sleep and was watching a DVD until he felt tired. His eyes widened when he saw the state she was in; hair dishevelled, shirt undone, distressed look on her face. He immediately assumed the worst; he had been making himself sick thinking about her with Mark, and it suited him to think that the guy was a jerk. "What the hell happened?"

She actually felt more ashamed facing Jack than she had with Mark. She wanted to go to her room, crawl under the covers and hibernate, maybe with a stiff vodka. "Nothing," she said in a small voice. "It's none of your business."

She went to bypass him, but he intercepted her. "I think it is my business when you come home looking like – _that_," he said.

She was suddenly very aware of her appearance, and felt the blood rising to her cheeks again. "Oh, don't be such a judgemental prick," she snapped. "Like you never got into anything at the end of a date."

"No, but I never got home looking upset after it," he countered. "What the hell did he do to you?" He resisted the urge to shake the truth out of her. If she was ashamed, the last thing she needed was him yelling at her.

"Nothing," Gabrielle said, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. Jack had seen her more undressed than this, of course, but she couldn't remember ever feeling so humiliated in front of him – at least not counting the time she had walked in on him with Bianca.

He grabbed her arm when she tried to get past him. "It's not nothing," he said as gently as he could. "You have to report him. He can't get away with this."

She stared at him blankly. "What? Get away with what?" she asked.

"Assaulting you," Jack stated matter-of-factly.

"Jack, he didn't assault me."

"It's OK, you don't have to be ashamed."

"I'm not ashamed – at least not because of that. He didn't assault me."

Jack eyed her suspiciously, not sure if she was telling the truth or didn't want to speak out against Mark. "Then why do you look like that?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," she said. If only he would stop looking at her like that, with a mix of concern and indignation. She would rather he acted like he didn't care who she was with. But to be acting so concerned only reminded her that they had once had something special... and perhaps still had. Why else would she have been thinking of Jack while kissing Mark?

Jack didn't let her go, but he relaxed his grip on her. "It matters to me," he said softly, and she wanted to cry from the shame of it all. Why did he have to be so damn nice?

"Look, I said your name, OK? Are you happy now? It was humiliating."

"What, you mean while you were with him?" Jack asked. "That's _it_? Jesus, Gabby, I thought he'd tried to rape you or something."

"Right, because meeting a guy you really like and then wrecking things forever because you're a little attracted to someone else, that's not humiliating enough," she said sarcastically.

"Yeah? How do you think I've felt these last few months?" Jack countered.

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about me being reminded every single fucking day that you don't want me," Jack said. "You think it's easy for me? Especially when you wear these nothing singlets to bed."

She flushed to realised he'd been watching her covertly, too embarrassed to realised Jack had answered the question she'd been wondering for months; weather he still had feelings for her. "How dare you!" she yelled at him, using anger to hide her embarrassment. "You've only got yourself to blame for us not being together. That is _not_ the same thing as you not being able to get over me. I hate you!" she yelled at him, taking her anger and humiliation at such a terrific night being ruined because of her feelings for Jack. It wasn't fair that she should still have feelings for him, or be attracted to him, not after what he had done to her. "I hate you!"

There was a passion in her eyes that suggested otherwise. She had humiliated herself with Mark tonight, but only because she still felt something towards him. The thought was intoxicating, and he grabbed her abruptly and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth without preliminaries, wrapping his arm around her waist, drawing her tight against him so her breasts were crushed up against his chest. She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to be doing this, but she couldn't help herself, and was kissing him back just as hungrily, struggling to breathe against the force of his hold but not wanting to break away. "Jack," she mumbled between kisses, knowing that no matter what she thought at other times, this was where she belonged...

For a few seconds it was the most intense, exquisite thing Jack could remember. Then he could smell Mark on her, taste him on her, and his body revolted, remembering the feel of Patrick on his skin, and he just felt disgusting and revolted. Abruptly he pulled away and bolted to the toilet.

It took Gabrielle a few seconds to work out what had happened and she marched into the bathroom after him. Mark didn't want her because of her feelings for Jack, and Jack didn't want her because she had dared go out with someone else – like _he _was so innocent. "You petty, immature _shit_," she yelled at him furiously. "What, you can sleep with whoever the hell you like, but God forbid _I_ should go out with someone else."

Jack groaned over the toilet bowl. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he said.

"Yeah? From where I'm standing, you're so possessive you can't stand the thought of me being with anyone else. It actually makes you _sick_ that I might kiss someone else."

"I was sexually abused when I was a teenager," Jack blurted out.

Gabrielle frowned. "That's not funny."

"I wouldn't joke about something like that. He – did things to me – made me do things to him – I could taste him on you and it made me think of Patrick."

Gabrielle sank to her knees, stunned to hear this. She had thought she knew more or less everything about Jack, and to find out a bombshell like this – "I'm so sorry," she said. She went to pat the back of his head and he jerked away from her.

"Please don't," he croaked. "Sorry. I really don't like being touched from behind," he said apologetically.

"It's OK," she said, feeling stupid as she said it since it was entirely understandable, given the circumstances. "Shit, I had no idea."

"It's not something I advertise."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"And say what? Hey, you come from this terrific, loving family, but just try to imagine growing up with an alcoholic stepmother who hates you and a paedophile who used you for two years until he got bored of you. You wouldn't have understood."

"I would have tried."

Jack groaned again, feeling his stomach lurch, but there was nothing more to bring up. "Hey, come on," Gabrielle said gently. "You'll feel better once you have a shower and something to eat." At least, he couldn't possibly feel worse; she had no idea what to do in a case like this.

She waited for him to have a shower, heating up some leftovers while she did. Afterwards, Jack filled her in on what had happened to him both as a child and after Gabrielle had broken up with him. "Zoe says she can't see the scars, but I think she's just being nice," he said.

She took his wrists in her hands. "I think you're being paranoid," she said. "I can't see anything." Speaking of Zoe – "Shit, I thought there was something going on between you," she admitted.

"You and Sean both."

"Sean? What's Sean gone to do with it – _shit_, are they _together_?" she asked incredulously. She smacked him playfully. "You were sitting on that kind of gossip and you didn't say anything?" she asked indignantly.

"I kind of think I owe her keeping her confidences," Jack said pointedly. "But there's nothing going on between us. I'm about as attracted to her as I am Jane – and believe me, if I could talk myself into falling for Jane, I would. We're a good match."

Gabrielle was longing to ask Jack how much of his earlier words he had meant; was he really still in love with her, still very much attracted to her? But she couldn't bring herself to bring up something so superficial when Jack was going through something so traumatic. Then something occurred to her. "Jack, this guy Patrick, he's still out there?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"And you're not worried that he's out there doing that to other kids?"

Jack squirmed. He'd had those same thoughts not long ago. "He might have stopped," he said in a small voice that told Gabrielle he didn't believe that for a second.

"Right. When do men like that stop? What, you think he woke up one morning and thought, shit, this is wrong, and never did it again?"

Jack squirmed harder. "Not exactly," he admitted.

"How can you living knowing he's out there when you have Ben?"

"He wouldn't go after Ben even if he knew about him. He likes them about thirteen," Jack retorted.

"That's not funny. Make fun of it for your own sake if you need to, but don't make jokes about Ben."

"Sorry."

"Jack, you need to say something about him. You can't have him running around doing it to someone else. You say Ben's too young for him, but what about boys like Ben who are thirteen? Don't you care about them?"

"Of course I do."

"Then _say_ something."

"And what will people say about _me_ then? I don't want people talking about me – hey, that's the guy who was such a slut that he was begging for attention when he was thirteen."

And suddenly a lot of Jack's attitude towards sex made a lot more sense. He had a reputation for being promiscuous, so he may as well go with it. And where had he gotten it from? From a bitter, alcoholic step-mother who had screamed at him as long as he could remember that he was a slut just like his mother, and a paedophile who had half-convinced him that he had in fact been begging for the attention. "Well, what means more to you? The respect of a bunch of randoms who don't know you – or mine? And Ben's, 'cos I'll be telling him that his dad's a coward."

He glowered at her. "You wouldn't dare."

She challenged him with her sparkling eyes. "Watch me."

He saw the challenge in her eyes and knew she was serious about this. "You'll have my back?" he asked in a small, plaintive voice.

"Always," she promised.

10


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay – I've started writing for **_**Harry Potter**_** and got carried away with the amount of feedback I got. I've given it a cursory check-over but sorry for anything I've missed.**

**Chapter Sixteen**

"You cowardly chicken-shit."

Jack gritted his teeth. He had gotten so far as making an official complaint against Patrick Wesley, only to back out when he realised just how much paperwork and testifying it would entail. He didn't want to go through that, not even at Gabrielle's insistence. He decided he would rather lose her respect than everyone else's. Besides, Ben was the most important to him, and he figured that if it came to it, she couldn't turn Ben against him; Ben worshipped him for getting him into White's.

But then along came Travis Knight, dropping in at the hospital and demanding Jack's help in prosecuting Patrick. And no matter how Jack tried to explain it, Travis wouldn't have a bar of it. He had somehow gotten Jack's name from a police officer friend on his, and was determined to rope Jack into his quest to see Patrick behind bars.

"You don't understand," Jack said through gritted teeth. "No-one will look at me the same way. And I have a son to think about."

"So you should want to see him behind bars," Travis said. Then softening, he asked, "Do you have a photo?"

Jack pulled out a photo of the three of them out of his wallet. "He looks like you," he said wistfully. "Is that your wife?"

"Gabrielle? No, we haven't been together since before Ben was born." He found himself explaining the details of Ben's conception, even though he wasn't sure why he was bothering. "But we get along well."

"How many women have you been with, Jack?" Travis asked suddenly.

Jack was so flustered by the question that he answered as honestly as he could. "Over a hundred," he admitted. "I finally felt straight sometime in the mid-eighties and by that point I was used to sleeping with whoever I fancied that – "

Travis nodded, simultaneously understanding and not; he had never been with a woman so he didn't understand in practice Jack's promiscuity, but understood in theory Jack's need to prove that he was straight. "And you're not worried that you're letting him run around to hurt people like Ben?" he asked.

Jack flinched; no matter how many times Gabrielle and Zoe had brought it up, he still didn't like thinking about it. "I can't," he said. "I have to think of him first. He won't go through what I did, he won't have a dad who didn't give a shit if he was being hurt." And he walked off, leaving Travis to wish he'd had a father like Jack instead of his own.

* * *

Patrick Wesley flicked through a well-thumbed copy of _The Scene_, sorry that it didn't include any pictures of Ben, sorry that Ned Quade had never bothered to get a photo of his only grandson. But then, Ned Quade had proven to be a pretty distant father; Patrick had known that fifteen years ago when he had targeted Jack.

But still, the article talked about his son, who Patrick now estimated to be close to seven. A little too young for Patrick's liking – by a good five years – but he imagined the boy would be the splitting image of his father, and that brought back fond memories. Jack had been one of the most eager-to-please boys he had ever met; Patrick had not yet met someone who stirred him like Jack had.

He frowned, remembering the complaint that had been filed against him. He had managed to find out that Jack was behind it. He didn't know what had possessed the boy after all these years, but thought he knew how to make a point. You did not screw with Patrick Wesley.

* * *

"Come through, Mr. Wesley. I'll try and find you a doctor who can treat you," Bart said to Patrick a few days later when the man fronted up to have his cast removed. He set him up in a consult room and went off to hunt for a doctor.

It was a busy day, and there was no-one who could be spared. He went back to Patrick, only to find that the older man had disappeared. Bart started to panic, He had never had a patient disappear on him before, and he didn't like it.

He found Zoe, and was relieved. She was the 2IC, she could do with it. "Doctor Gallagher, I've lost a patient," he blurted out. "I put him in a consult room and he seems to have wandered off. He has a leg in a cast, so I don't see that he could have gone far, but I can't find him."

Zoe smiled patiently. "That's alright, we'll find him," she said. "What's his name?"

Bart consulted his notes. "Wesley," he said. "Patrick Wesley."

Zoe felt her blood run cold. Patrick Wesley, the same man who had sexually abused Jack for two years? Had just turned up in the ED after Jack had filed a complaint about him? And then – "Where's Ben?" she asked, because Ben often caught the bus to the hospital and did his homework in the tea-room. The staff loved him, and saw him supplied with food when he was hungry and blankets when he was cold. There was every chance Ben was here today, especially if Patrick had done his homework.

"Ben Quade?" Bart asked, using Jack's name, because it was beyond his comprehension that a child wouldn't have his parents married and use his father's name.

"Ben Jaeger," Zoe responded testily, usually pretty tolerant of the way Bart used Jack's name when it came to Ben, but right now in no mood to cut any slack that wasted time. "Is he here?"

"He's in the tea-room, I think. I saw Ricki let him in before," Bart said. "Why?"

Zoe sprinted off to the tea-room.

He was the splitting image of Jack, just as Patrick had thought he would be. And the same intelligence; _Harry Potter_ was hardly six-year-old reading material. Patrick fondly remembered the way Jack would read books meant for children five or six years older than him.

Ben didn't usually warm to strangers – they tended to treat him like a six-year-old – but Patrick was very good at making children like him, and instinct told him Ben was the type of boy who needed to be treated as older than he was. "I knew your dad," he said.

Ben brightened; he loved hearing about his father before he had met him. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Patrick said with a conspiring wink that made Ben feel like an adult... or at least a ten-year-old. "He was very smart, too. He used to love reading books way beyond his age. You must have gotten that from him. You look just like him, too."

Just like he had expected, Ben smiled shyly at the compliment. "I didn't know him much when I was little. Did you know my other grandpa?"

"Your dad's dad? Yeah, I did." And Patrick launched into a fictionalised account of Ned Quade, making Ben's eyes gleam with delight until the boy was happy to have Patrick brush his hair beyond his ear affectionately.

"Get the fuck away from him," came Zoe's voice from the door, and Patrick startled to see a woman who looked an awful lot like Jane Grey. Jack certainly had a knack of attracting beautiful blonds.

"Excuse me?" Patrick asked with respectful politeness that he was an expert at using when it came to people who looked to cause trouble for him.

"I said. Get the fuck away from him," Zoe said. "Ben, come here," she said in a tone that Ben didn't dare disobey; Zoe was one of the few people who knew how to handle him, and therefor one of the few people he listened to him. Zoe stepped in front of Ben as soon as the boy was within reaching distance of her and said to Bart, who had just caught up, "Call Jack. And Gabrielle. Tell them Patrick Wesley is in the ED and trying to make friends with Ben. And if you can't find them, call Jane. Then Rebecca. Then Lindsay."

"What's this – " Bart started to say.

"Juts fucking call them and stop asking questions," Zoe snapped, and Bart ran off to make the required calls. "You," she said to Patrick, "get the fuck out of here. If I see you around this hospital again, you'll answer to me. And so help me God, I am a _hell_ of a lot less easily intimidated than some insecure thirteen-year-old."

Jack came racing down from surgery half an hour later; Gabrielle was in meetings all day and didn't get Bart's calls. He scooped Ben up in his arms, even though Patrick was long gone. "Dad! You're hurting!" Ben protested.

Jack relaxed his grip. "Sorry," he said.

"Who was that man?" Ben asked. "He said he was a friend of yours but Zoe didn't think he was much of a friend," Ben said insightfully.

Jack bit his lip and, with an encouraging look from Zoe, chose his words carefully. "He hurt me when I was younger, a bit older than you are now."

"Can you forgive him?"

"No. Sometimes people hurt you so badly that you can't forgive them."

"Like you and mum."

"No... she knows I did something dumb because I was a kid. Patrick was a man who should have known better. And I was sorry I hurt your mum, he's not sorry he hurt me."

"Will he hurt me?" Ben asked in a small, childish voice that actually sounded like it belonged to a six-year-old for once.

"No. I was see to it that you're not. I'm your dad and it's my job to protect you."

"Was it other grandpa's job to stop him hurting you?"

Damn, Ben was intelligent for his age. Usually, Jack took pride in that, but – "My dad wasn't a very nice man," Jack said. "I'm different to him. You don't want to meet him. He's not like your grandpa."

"You don't like my grandpa," Ben said. "You said he kept you and mum apart."

"He did... but he was trying to do the right thing. He just didn't know. I forgive him."

Ben liked the sound of that. He snuggled up to Jack and fell asleep in his arms. "You have to do something now," Zoe whispered over a sleeping Ben. "He's already come after him."

Jack cradled his son's head protectively. "I know," he whispered back. "I would just rather not think about it right now."

Zoe left him to sleep with his son in his arms. Shortly after, Gabrielle came down, and Zoe took her into the sun room to explain things. "I know you must be shaken," she said sympathetically. "But whatever you're feeling, imagine it from Jack's perspective. Someone who abused him threatened his son. You may be feeling it, but imagine how _he_ feels. _He_ went through it."

Gabrielle nodded. "I understand," she said.

"For what it's worth, he's agreed to testify against Patrick Wesley."

Gabrielle nodded. "I wanted him to begin with. He made a complaint but that's as far as it went. I guess Patrick's doing this to intimidate Jack or something... but he's totally underestimated how much Ben means to him. He'd not at all like his dad."

"I only ever spoke to Stella, but if her attitude towards Jack was any indication of Ned's paternal instinct..." Zoe trailed off, thinking. "Jack must be nothing like him."

"I wouldn't have fallen for him if he was."

"Speaking of which..." Zoe said slyly.

Gabrielle shrugged. "I don't know where things with us stand at the moment," she admitted. "I understood him so much better when I found out about Patrick. I understand now that a lot of his promiscuity stems from wanting to prove himself. And maybe it's knowing that or knowing just what a manipulative tramp Bianca is, but I can't bring myself to hate him for it anymore."

"You thought about telling him that?" Zoe asked.

"You mean, have I thought about getting back with him?" Gabrielle asked, reading between the lines. Zoe nodded slightly. "I don't know how to bring it up," she admitted. "It seems so crass, after what he's going through, to say, oh, by the way, you want to give it another go? Like he was to prosecute this guy who did that to him and went after Ben, and all I want is a date."

"I think you'd be surprised how good it could be for all three of you," Zoe said, but Gabrielle was already lost in thought for Jack and what he was going through, and how Patrick Wesley was going to pay for going anywhere near Jack, let alone Ben.

* * *

"Frank, I'm going to take Zoe home."

Frank nodded distractedly. It was one less thing for him to worry about; Zoe would be in safe hands with Jack. Whatever their story was, there was no denying that the two doctors cared about one another. Idly Frank wondered where they had forged their friendship, then decided it didn't matter at this point. Jack would stop Zoe from doing anything stupid in her grief, and could be trusted not to come onto her in her moment of vulnerability, which, unfortunately, was more then could be said about a lot of men.

Jack found Zoe in the tea-room, curled up on the couch, medicated on something – but not something strong enough to kill her grief. But then, he remembered just how much he had swallowed trying to forget about Patrick and Bianca, and that still hadn't knocked him out enough not to resort to a razor instead. It was part of why he had volunteered to take Zoe home. He knew better than most what a person could do to themselves to try and forget their pain. "Hey, you," he said gently. "I'm taking you home."

"Home," Zoe repeated dully. Sean had never moved in, but he had spent so much time there that a lot of his stuff was still there. "I don't know if I can face home."

"Then I'll take you back to my place, if you're OK with the couch," Jack said. "It's only a three bedroom."

Zoe stared at him blankly for a second, trying to comprehend the maths. "I forgot you aren't really living with her," she said. Through the haze of whatever Frank had given her, she wondered how the two of them could stand it, living in the same house in separate bedrooms when they were obviously still deeply attracted to one another.

"A lot of people do," Jack said dryly. Most people just couldn't comprehend that two people could have a child together and live together without 'really' living together. God knew, Jack had taken advantage of that fact many a time to scare of any potential interest in Gabrielle. "Come on. Even if it's just my couch, it's more private than this place."

He went to collect Zoe's things from her locker and found Gabrielle on the way. "Do you think you could make Ben scarce for tonight?" he asked. "Take him to Jane's or Rebecca's. You know how he can get sometimes, I don't want to be throwing it in her face. Jane's already volunteered." News travelled fast, and Jane had already offered to take Ben for the night if Jack and Gabrielle wanted to stay with Zoe.

Gabrielle nodded. Ben could be rambunctious and super-friendly with people he liked, particularly Zoe, and right now, having that in her face would only serve as a reminder of all the things she and Sean were never going to do – like have children. "Do you want me to stay with Jane, too?" she asked, knowing that as well as she and Zoe got along, they weren't close like she and Jack were, and if one-on-one attention from Jack was the best thing for her right now, then who was she to hover around like a third wheel?

"I'd appreciate that," Jack said, smiling guiltily that Gabrielle knew her so well. Briefly he thought of their last kiss, which had culminated in him telling her about his abuse. He had wanted so badly, in the moment of that kiss, for them to end up together. But he had ended up so distraught that nothing had happened, and now he didn't know where they stood.

So Gabrielle went, and Jack took Zoe home. "You can have my bed," he said. "Gabby took Ben to Jane's so I'll stay in his bed. And don't protest, he loves it when I fall asleep with him and his pillow and doona smell of me," he added, then realised that maybe throwing it in her face that he had a gorgeous son with the love of his life while she would never have a child with Sean was maybe a bit tacky. "Sorry."

Zoe smiled wanly. "It's OK," she said, privately thinking that if all things were right, Jack and Gabrielle would be married, sharing the same bed and Ben would love to cuddle up with them on nights that his nightmares kept him awake. "Why are both of them at Jane's? I wouldn't have minded them around." Then she realised. "It's because of me, isn't it? Jack, you don't have to send your family around to coddle me," she said.

"I didn't want Ben around you," he admitted.

"You mean you thought he would make me sad?" Zoe questions. Jack nodded sheepishly. "You know I love him. I'm beginning to understand why you and Jane have such a special relationship. You're both mad about children and you make others mad about children. Jack, you should be with Gabrielle tonight."

"I wanted to be with you."

"You wanted to make sure I didn't swallow a bottle of vodka, a bottle of diazepam and slit my wrists?" Zoe asked. Jack looked sheepish. "I'm not going through what you did, Jack. This hurts like hell, but... I haven't been hurt like you have. But I appreciate it and since you're here... could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I need to know there's someone I trust around. I would like to drink myself into oblivion and know I have someone I trust to stop me from doing something stupid."

"Of course. That's why I invited you over. I've got beer, vodka and whiskey. Sorry, but Ben's displaying quite a knack for undoing locks so now our somewhat limited booze supply is in a fridge in my room in a first-class lock. If Ben can undo it, then he is welcome to whatever is inside. In fact, I think MIT would pay his bar tab to get him on as their youngest student ever."

Zoe laughed at that. Jack really couldn't help himself. He had sent his son away so she wouldn't feel he was throwing his ability to have children in her face, but he couldn't help but brag about him at the same time. "Beer would be nice," she said.

"With a vodka to use it as a chaser?" Jack offered. Zoe nodded. Getting drunk sounded very nice right now, and Jack poured her a drink. An hour later, he eased her head onto his lap so she could sob her heart out and talk incoherently about Sean, whatever thoughts came into her head that she needed to release. She needed it desperately.

So he was surprised to hear her say, "You should be with Gabrielle."

"She was happy to go to Jane's."

"No... I mean, something like this happens, Jack, you should be with the woman you love. You might be surprised how willing she is to be with you right now."

"I'm not about to take advantage of a woman because he colleague has died," Jack said, a little harshly, because he knew all about people taking advantage of other people who were in vulnerable situations. "And besides, anything that happened between us wouldn't count, because she would regret it after she had gotten over her grief – not to belittle your own grief," he added.

"You know what? The two of you are the most proud, stubborn souls I've ever come across," Zoe said with frustration. "I think you overestimate the push she needs to realise how much she loves u."

Jack took those as drunk words.

* * *

"Mate, is something wrong?"

Jack shook his head clear of the cobwebs that were constantly coming to his brain because of Zoe's loss. He had never liked Sean, but he respected that Zoe had loved him, and therefor, he was respectful of her loss. "No, just a little distracted," he admitted.

"About Patrick?" Travis asked.

Jack laughed ironically at that. He had been scared of prosecuting Patrick in case he came after Ben; but he had come after Ben anyway, and touched him, and now the most inventive death penalties that the Americans could think of wasn't humane enough for Jack. He wanted Patrick to burn, and he was hunt him to the ends of the earth to make sure that would happen. No, he wasn't distracted over Patrick. "No, it's over Zoe," he said. He had already told Travis about Zoe, like he had told Travis about Gabrielle, Ben, Jane, Lindsay and Rebecca. "I'm worried about her."

Travis smiled indulgently. Jack had a lot of women around him that he cared deeply about, and who cared just as deeply about him. Most of them, Travis believed, he had never slept with – Jane, Zoe, Rebecca. He was envious. He may care about those women as sisters – and Rebecca _was_ a sister to him – but it was more than _he_ had ever had women to care about. "She has lots of people to care about her," he said, trying to hide the envy in his voice. Ten his voice softened. "They won't let her slit her wrists, Jack."

Only Travis could get away with saying something like that. "Fine, whatever," he said.

Travis smiled indulgently again. "Does Ben like Angel?" he asked.

Angel was the name of Travis's golden Labrador. Jack knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was good with animals and children. Of course; Travis loved things who weren't about to overpower and hurt him, so of course he had an outpouring for dogs, cats and children. He got on well with Ben, especially after Jack had given his 'permission' to like Travis. (_Sorry, _Jack had mouth when he had explained to Ben that Travis was someone he could trust; _I understand_ Travis had mouthed back.) "He's always wanted a dog," Jack said. "Zoe offered us a puppy but Gabby's super over-protective and thought he might get bitten."

"But she's a good mum," Travis said.

"She is," Jack agreed. "She's been a single mum for so long that she's a bit over-protective of Ben – and she was used to thinking of him as being special needs – well, he is, but not in the way she thought – "

Travis laughed at Jack's attempt to explain Gabrielle's misunderstanding of Ben's needs. "I already know he's a special kid," Travis said. "And he's got a great mum and dad." There was a pregnant pause because Travis said, "I know I'm never going to have kids. I can't stand for anyone but like you, Gabrielle and Ben to touch me. I'm just glad that _you_ got to have a son... especially someone like Ben."

Jack was floored by Travis's understanding of the situation, and was aware of the fact that Travis would never have his own kids. The man was dying and only wanted to see Patrick come to see justice. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm not," Travis said. "I just – I want to see you and Gabrielle back together," he admitted.

"Not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not."

Travis persisted. "What's her star sign?" he asked. Jack shrugged. "Fine then, what's yours?" Jack shrugged again. "You mean you don't know either of your star signs?" Jack shrugged again, and Travis said. "OK, when's you're birthday?"

"February 15th."

"And her's?"

"April 25th."

"So you're a Pisces and she's and Taurus," Travis stated matter-of-factly. "That's like, one of the best matches around, they're totally compatible together and compliment each other's strengths and weaknesses" he said, his eyes sparkling.

"I think you're taking advantage of the fact you know I don't know anything about astrology to sell me bullshit," Jack said.

Travis shrugged. He had Jack's son in the backyard playing with his dog – albeit after Jack had installed security gates so Patrick couldn't get in – so he knew he couldn't piss Jack off too much. "You planning on doing anything for her birthday?" he asked.

"Hadn't thought about it," Jack admitted.

"Why not? You should do something special for her," Travis said, thinking wistfully that he would love to have someone like Gabrielle to do something for on her birthday. Jack didn't know how good he had it. "I bet she hasn't had a proper birthday since Ben was born."

"If she wants to do something she'll organise it herself," Jack said. But Travis noticed that the thought was in his head now. _Good_, he thought. After seeing Patrick behind bars, it was his biggest wish to see Jack and Gabrielle together, and maybe if he could get Jack to do something nice for her it would send them on their way. They had a great connection, and Travis suspected it would take less than they thought to nudge them back together.

* * *

"When was the last time you had a proper birthday party?" Jack asked Gabrielle the next day.

Gabrielle had to think about that, it had been so long. "My fifteenth, I guess," she said. "Mum got sick after that and then there was Ben and I haven't had the opportunity since. Why?"

Jack felt guilty. Seven years of being responsible for a young child meant she had never had the opportunity to let loose. Her sixteenth had been overshadowed by her mother's death, her eighteenth by Ben's birth. "You should have a party."

"Jack, I can't have a party. I have work and Ben."

"Take the week off and send Ben to your dad's," Jack said. "If it's been that long then you are in desperate need of a good time. Look, you had a louse eighteenth because of me, so let me make it up to you and give you a great twenty-fifth. Look, I'll organise it all for you, you won't have to do a thing but have fun and relax."

Gabrielle was surprised at how emphatic Jack was about her having a birthday, then decided that she really didn't have anything to lose by agreeing to it. And it was nice to know that someone wanted to spoil her. "OK," she said. Then after a pause she asked. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm surprised you remembered my birthday."

He had been planning something for her eighteenth, to a point he'd looked into getting her a passport so she could go out drinking with him. If only he had been around for that milestone. "I never forgot it," he said.

"Where's the birthday girl?" Zoe asked. She, Mike, Charlotte, Jane and Travis were already there and it had fallen to Jack to entertain them while they waited for the guest of honour.

"Driving back from Widgee. I told her to take Ben yesterday but she didn't want to take the extra day off," Jack said. "It was hard enough to convince her to take the week of as it was, so I didn't push it."

Gabrielle came through the door fifteen minutes later. "Sorry, traffic was bad," she said, wishing she had taken Jack's advice and taken the Friday off now. "I'll be half an hour." She headed for the shower.

Jack gave her twenty minutes and then knocked on the bathroom door. "You decent?" he asked cheekily.

"You can come in, Jack," she said. "Sorry about being late – you were right, I should have taken him yesterday."

"It's fine."

"It's not important." He took her in. She had brought a new dress for the occasion, a strapless green one that she looked great in. And it would totally go with his present. But then, she had always looked in green. "You scrub up well," he said admiringly.

Gabrielle blushed. It had been so long since she had had something that required a nice dress; actually, the last thing had been her fifteenth birthday, and she had well and truly outgrown that one. "Thanks," she said.

"I got you something," he said, pulling a jewellery case out of his pocket. "Happy birthday."

Gabrielle took it and opened it. It was a diamond-and-emerald necklace. She gasped; it was gorgeous. "Jack, I can't accept this," she protested. "It's too much."

"Well, I can't take it back so you have to. Turn around," she said. She turned her back to him and he fastened it around her neck. "There," he said. "Gorgeous, like you."

She blushed. "Jack, it really is too much. You shouldn't have." But even as she was saying it she was admiring herself in the mirror. It was gorgeous, and set off her skin while complimenting her dress.

Jack shrugged. "It was meant to be your eighteenth. I had paid off most of it when you left, and they wouldn't give me my money back so I figured I'd just pay it all off. I'd almost forgotten about it, it was just sitting in my safe deposit box."

Gabrielle gasped at that; it was one thing for him to be able to afford it on his current salary; when he had been a student – "It must have taken you ages," she said. And they had only been together for a few months when she had left him.

"I knew on our second date I wanted to be with you for a long time, and when I saw it, I had to get it," Jack said, reading her thoughts. "Maybe it was stupid, but I couldn't bear to part with it. Like it was meant to be yours, even if I was never going to see you again."

Gabrielle stared at Jack for a few seconds, taking in the magnitude of what Jack was saying. He had bought her an expensive gift because he had thought they would be together for a long time even after their second date, and he had held onto it even when he'd thought he would never see her again. She fingered an emerald, blown away at the intensity and longevity of his feelings for her. He had been saying for a year that he had carried a torch for her, but somehow there was a big difference between him saying that and her being presented with this kind of proof. "I had no idea," she said.

"I loved you," he said with the quiet sincerity of a man who knows it is over and has nothing to gain by expressing his feelings but expressed them anyway. He had loved her, and still did.

She kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth and wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her back for a second, bringing his arm up against her bare back, then pushed her away. "I don't want you to sleep with me for the necklace," he said, shaking that his body had betrayed him. He had almost accepted that it was never going to happen between them, and then she went and kissed him and right now he wanted to take her against the sink.

"I don't want to sleep with you for the necklace," Gabrielle said. "I want to sleep with you because of what it means."

"You're serious?" Jack asked. "This is not something you want to screw with me over."

She reached out and stroked his cheek; he pressed his head against her palm. "I'm serious," she said.

Jack kissed her, forgetting in that moment that they had guests in the living room, with more arriving every minute. He backed her against the basin and kissed her with intensity. He slid his hands down to her hips and sensing what he was about to do, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted her up onto the edge of the basin and then moved his hands down to the hem of her dress, sliding them back up, pushing her dress up to her thighs. She responded by wrapping her legs around his waist and brought her hands behind his back and under his shirt. He grunted with pleasure at the sensation. "Gabrielle," he groaned into her neck. "My love."

"Say that again," she said.

"My love, my love," he repeated. He shuddered when she brought her hands around to his front, undoing the top buttons of his shirt and running her fingers over his collarbone. He thrust his thigh against hers so she could feel his erection...

"I wonder what's taking them so long," Mike mused. "She's missing her own party." He went to check on them...

... "Do that again," Jack instructed, and Gabrielle ran her fingers down his spine in a way that made him buck against her. He slid his hand all the way up her thigh, pulling at the elastic on her underwear. "Say my name."

"Jack," she moaned. He slid his fingers inside her underwear and she shuddered with desire. "Jack, Jack... _shit_, Mike."

"What?"

"Mike. Turn around."

Jack pulled away from Gabrielle and turned around, turning scarlet when he saw his boss, and going even deeper red when he realised he was sporting an obvious erection. "Your house is full of people," he said with a sly grin. "You might want to take a minute." And he walked out too tell Zoe. "If I'd been a minute later they would have been going at in on top of the basin," he said...

... "I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed in my life," Jack said in the bathroom.

"I know," Gabrielle moaned. Mind you, Mike wasn't her boss, so it was worse for him.

He sat on the edge of the bath. "You should go out there," he said. "I'll be there in a sec. I need a minute." God, this was so embarrassing.

Gabrielle left the bathroom and returned to the main room, which was now full of people. She felt herself start to blush again to think that they had all been out there while she and Jack had been in the bathroom. "Having fun?" Mike asked her dryly. Gabrielle shot him a filthy look. "Nice necklace," he said. "Jack buy it for you?" he asked, enjoying needling her.

"None of your business," she choked out.

"What the hell was that about?" Dan asked, dying of curiosity after witnessing the exchange – tense on Gabrielle's part, amused on Mike's – after Gabrielle flounced off to busy herself with other guests.

"Walked in on them in the bathroom," Mike said, not one to keep such a juicy bit of gossip to himself. Besides, people had been talking about them for a year now, and if they were indiscreet enough to make out in the bathroom with a fair chunk of the hospital staff in the house, they deserved to be outed. "Something to do with a very expensive necklace."

"You're kidding me," Dan said – although he knew he shouldn't be all that surprised. It was just that Jack and Gabrielle had been stopping and starting so much over the last year that he was beginning to think that two such stubborn souls would _never_ get their shit together.

"Nope. And check out what she's wearing. I know exactly how much he makes, that's a fair chunk of his salary."

Well, Erica had a good eye for jewellery. Dan yanked her over so they could go and inspect it under the pretence of wishing her a happy birthday.

Jack emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, looking remarkably collected for how embarrassed he felt. "Enjoying yourself?" Mike asked slyly.

Jack glowered at him. "Shut up," he said testily. Mike was his boss, but this was his house, so he figured that made it even ground. "She was pleased with her present and got a bit carried away thanking me."

"I could see that." Jack realised he wasn't going to get anything out of Mike other than sly comments so he left the man to his own devices.

"What's that?" Travis asked Jack a little while later.

"What's what?" Travis rubbed his neck to illustrate and Jack peered at his reflection in the oven. "Crap," he said when he saw the hickey. "I didn't realise she was pressing so hard." Or, rather, he had, but it had felt too good to think about saying something about it.

"Really?" Travis asked, grinning like he was Ben and his parents were getting back together.

Jack shot him a filthy look. If he wasn't going to take that crap from his boss in his own house, he certainly wasn't going to take it from some waif he was doing a favour for. "She liked her present, that's all," he said defensively.

"So she repaid you with sex?" he asked cheekily. Then, "Sorry," he amended, realising he had taken things too far.

"She's not a prostitute," Jack said shortly.

"Sorry," Travis repeated in a small voice.

"It's fine," Jack said begrudgingly, because while Travis could be crass, he meant well. "I'm just _nervous_."

"About what? You're crazy about each other."

"No, _I'm_ crazy about _her_ and we're _attracted_ to one another," Jack amended. The fact that they forget about their guests in the next room to make out in the bathroom was testimony to that, but chemistry didn't necessarily make a solid relationship; just look at him and Terri. He was rewarded with a blank look from Travis, who had no idea about the nuances of a relationship as complex as Jack and Gabrielle's. "I've been wanting this for a year but everyone we get close, something happens. Usually me sleeping with someone I shouldn't have or lying about it. Or both," he added ruefully.

"And have you done that lately?"

"Not since Lindsay, and she knows about that."

"Then I don't see what the problem is."

_Of course you don't_, Jack thought, resisting the urge to make a snarky comment about Travis's lack of experience with women. Would serve him right thinking that just because they were allies on one little thing meant he could go poking his nose into Jack's business. _I'm glad you're so homophobic, the last thing I need is for you to decide to have a D&M with Dan_, he thought. He could just imagine what the two men could come up with if they ever compared notes on what they knew about jack and Gabrielle. Jack refrained from saying that thought out loud, too; no sense in giving Travis any ideas.

"How are you enjoying yourself?" Jack asked Gabrielle when they had a rare quiet moment in the kitchen.

"I feel like I've been busted with my boyfriend behind the toilets in high school," she complained. "I swear everyone's talking about us."

"You didn't have a high-school boyfriend – not unless you count me – and I'd have thought you were used to us being talked about by now," Jack said. "And you came onto me, remember?"

"If I had known Mike would walk in on us, I never would have," she said, but she didn't push him away when he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side off her head. "What made him think it was OK to come into my room, anyway?" she asked. "He might own your ass but he doesn't own mine. Jack, stop distracting me, I'm trying to be pissed off," she ordered him half-heartedly when he started kissing her neck. "Hey, stop it! You'll leave a mark!" she yelped.

"Like you did with me?" he chuckled affectionately.

"Sorry about that," she murmured, closing her eyes despite the fact she wanted to keep an eye out on people coming and going and enjoying the way Jack's chest felt against her back, his arms around her waist, his mouth on her skin. "Jack, we should stop," she said weakly.

"Sure," he agreed with absolutely no conviction whatsoever. He cupped her chin and rotated her head so she was facing him, and kissed her.

"Jack, do you have – oh, shit, sorry," Travis said, walking in on them. Jack and Gabrielle broke apart, and Gabrielle took the opportunity to leave Jack's embrace before things went any further. "Sorry," he repeated once he and Jack were alone together.

Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; if he had to taste her, it would drive him crazy. This was getting beyond a joke. "It's fine, what did you want?" he asked.

"Lemonade."

"Fridge."

Travis retrieved the drink out of the fridge and was leaving the kitchen when he said, "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"She totally can't keep her hands off you."

"Terrific party, guys. You should play hosts more often," Zoe said. She had been watching them all night after what Mike had said about them making out in the bathroom, and there hadn't been much time when he wasn't within a meter of her, taking every opportunity to touch her. It was rather sweet to watch, although it made her miss Sean.

"Thanks," Jack said gruffly. He had his arm draped behind Gabrielle's back, his hand resting possessively on her hip, and it was clear he wanted people gone. His face was as easy to read as a book.

"Oh, and Jack?" Mike said as they parted ways. "Take the rest of the week off." Zoe badly attempted to suppress her laughter when Jack went deep red. "I think they think they're being discreet," he laughed as he walked Zoe to her car. "They could barely keep their hands off each other."

"And not doing a very good job at that," Zoe agreed.

Once the front door was closed after Zoe and Mike, the last guests, Gabrielle wormed out of Jack's hold and started gathering up dirty dishes. "What are you doing?" he asked, although it was quite obvious, he just couldn't believe she was cleaning up at a time like this.

"Cleaning up."

"Gabrielle, I've waited a year for you. The mess can wait until tomorrow. Come here," he directed her. She walked back to Jack and he embraced her tightly. "You're trembling," he noted. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know. I'm just nervous."

"Me, too," he admitted. A year of waiting and hoping and trying to get back into her good books had finally come to fruition, and now he was petrified of doing something to stuff it up. "Look, I just wanted you to know that there hasn't been anyone since Lindsay," he said.

"I know."

"So you trust me, then?" he asked. She nodded, and he kissed her. The moment their lips met, he fell back against the front door, grateful for the support of the heavy oak door. He couldn't believe he had nearly convinced himself that he was over her, when kissing her came as natural to him as breathing. "I've missed you so much," he whispered between kisses. He ran his hands up and down her bare arms and across her bare shoulders. "Beautiful," he said. "So beautiful." He shuddered when she brought her hands up under his shirt and a year of pent-up desire came flooding back and he knew he wasn't going to last very long. "I think I'm going to embarrass myself," he admitted.

It took Gabrielle a second to realise what Jack was talking about. Then she remembered what a high libido he'd had all those years ago; if he hadn't gotten laid since Lindsay – and she believed him when he said he hadn't – then he must be desperate for a release. "You mean you don't, uh –?" she said tentatively, trying to think of a way to phrase it delicately.

"If you're asking do I masturbate, then yes, but it's not the same. I only ever do it if I'm desperate, like if there's no-one I feel like being with."

_Or if you're trying to do the right thing by me_, Gabrielle thought. Or maybe 'no-one he felt like being with' meant 'no-one but her'. In a perverse way, Jack had been flattering her, waiting for her even after she had said it was never going to happen. Well, maybe he knew her better than she knew herself. "What's so funny?" Jack asked.

"Nothing," she said. She placed her hand on his chest and provocatively dragged it downwards to his crotch. He inhaled sharply when she applied pressure on his erection. "You like that?" she asked. He nodded and she dropped to her knees, unzipping his pants and pulling them down with his boxers, freeing his erection.

Jack grunted. The memories of what Patrick had done to him were still fresh in his mind, along with the memory of bullying Gabrielle into going down on him in the past. "Sweetheart," he said. "You don't have to. I don't mind if you don't want – oooh," he groaned when she took him in her mouth. He remembered being frustrated by her lack of skill in the past, but either she had been practicing or he was so hot for her that the slightest touch from her would set him off. "Stop whenever you like," he said half-heartedly, because he didn't particularly want her to stop. He grabbed her shoulders and began thrusting into her mouth, crying out her name as he did. It was the most heady feeling; he couldn't remember ever being so turned on. She didn't object so he started pumping her faster and faster until he could feel the almost-forgotten sensation of a great orgasm coming on. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he cried out. "I'm – oh, God," he cried, shuddering violently as he climaxed in her mouth.

Shaking, he slid to the floor. "I'm just going to sit here for a sec," he said. He drew her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. "That was amazing," he breathed. She wriggled with delight in his arms, knowing from the way he was shaking that it had been an amazing experience for him; he didn't usually react like that. In fact –

"You've never reacted like that before," she said. Then a little wistfully, "sometimes I wondered if there was something wrong with me. My second boyfriend cheated on me, too."

"Ah, babe, I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. For what it's worth, I had every intention of teaching you... I just got bogged down in my own shitty sense of entitlement."

"Can you do that?"

"Teach you?"

"Yeah. If you want. I'm curious, though – how many men have there been?"

"Just you and Steve. Do I want to know how many women there have been?"

"Probably not," he said. Then, "Does it bother you? That there've been a lot?"

"I guess not... so long as there's not going to be any more."

"Hey, I know I can be an entitled jerk sometimes, but I'm not stupid. I lost you once and I'm not about to do the same thing again." He buried his face back in her hair. "Just so you know, I love this shampoo, but I hate it when you put your hair up."

"Starting up with the demands, are we?" she teased.

"I'll have you know I can be a very considerate boyfriend. I just like being able to run my fingers through your hair." He kissed the top of her head. "I think I can stand now," he said, and he got to his feet. "I can't believe the way you make me feel," he said; he still felt shaky.

"Oooh, did I tire bub out?" she asked.

"Bub has plenty of stamina," Jack retorted. "He just needs to stay in bed," he added, giving her an intense suggestive look. He took Gabrielle's hand and led her to her room. He went to kiss her and pulled back immediately, squirming with disgust. "Sorry, could you brush your teeth?" he asked. "The taste of it makes me throw up."

Guiltily, she remembered how much she had resented it when Jack had refused to kiss her after she'd gone down on him. At the time she's thought it was a typical macho attitude about oral sex – they wanted it, but not the consequences – and she realised now it stemmed from being made to do it himself. "I didn't realise how much it affected you," she said after she came back from the bathroom.

"Least it means I don't have to justify it. But hey, I have much better things to be doing than talking about what happened to me." And to prove it, he pushed her into her back and began kissing her, her mouth, face neck and shoulders, expertly inching down the zip on her dress, exposing bare flesh as he worked the dress down. He pulled it off her entirely so she was only in her underwear and then worked his way back up her body, unhooking her bra when he reached the garment and tossing it aside to join her dress on the floor. He was trying to take it slow, but there didn't seem like such a thing when it came to Gabrielle, and her breasts were warm and responsive to his hands and tongue, with Gabrielle herself writhing and arching her back to his touch. He moved downwards, pulling her underwear down so she was completely naked. He felt very overdressed in comparison, but he resisted her attempts to return the favour. It had been a long time since he had gotten to treat her like this, and he wasn't about to get distracted by his own desire – which he could feel was already building up again.

He wedged his hand between her legs, and it didn't take much persuasion to get her to spread them. He lowered his head to her and tasted her, consuming her with abandon until she was thrashing about and he had to restrain her with his hand on her pelvis so he could do his job. He ate her until she was screaming in ecstasy and then eased her back down to reality.

She was glowing when he crawled back up the bed, and looked beautiful. He ran his hands the length of her body until she was purring with pleasure. When he could sense she was ready, he quickly divested himself of his clothes and climbed on top of her. He already knew that she was on the pill and cleared of any STDs when she had started working at the hospital, so he had nothing to worry about, which was good, because no matter what _Cosmo_ said, it wasn't the same with a condom. He positioned himself between her legs and slowly entered her, glad that he'd already gotten his rocks off because now he wasn't so driven by his lust and could take his time with her. "Oh, God," he breathed when he got all the way inside her. How could he have ever forgotten how good this felt? How could he have ever taken her for granted? He went as easy as he could on her until he could feel her respond favourably and started going harder. The same intense feeling he'd had before when she was giving him a blow job came back, and he started to lose control of himself, in an exquisite way. He grabbed her thigh, motioning that he wanted her to wrap her legs around his waist. He braced himself against the headboard with one arm and used his free hand to touch her, bringing her to orgasm again until she was going crazy underneath him, raking her nails down his back, her face buried in his neck and this time he could feel the pressure and knew it was going to leave one hell of a mark that he would get a week of grief for, but he didn't care. "Baby, baby, baby," he crooned, the intensity of his feelings mounting as he barrelled towards a climaxed. He slammed into her and emptied himself inside her, burying his face in her neck.

Then he burst into tears. "I love you," he blubbered. "Love you so much." She went to disentangle her legs from around him, but he stopped her. "Just... hold me as tight as you can," he whispered. She did, and let him cry into her neck. "Sorry, I'm such a sook," he said. "I've just never been with someone who knew what had happened to me."

"I understand," she said, overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings. She ran her hands down her back and they came away sticky. "Sorry, I think I've made you bleed," she said.

He settled his weight on his knees and grinned down at her. "I always knew you were capable of being a complete wildcat," he said. "I'm going to take a shower. Join me?"

"Jack, you can't possibly be serious!" she said, more amazed by his stamina then scandalised.

"I told you how I felt about you," he countered. "Why, is bub worn out?"

Oh, she was so not ignoring a challenge like that. "I grew up on a farm, Jack. I assure you I have plenty of stamina. Anyway, you need someone to do your back." And she got out of bed and joined him in the shower.

"Jack, you can't be serious," Gabrielle complained early the following morning when she woke up from a very sexy dream to find that Jack was actually inside her. He'd had her four times last night, plus the initial blowjob, surely he had exhausted himself by now?

"Does it look like I'm not?" he asked innocently, then rolled them over so he was underneath. "C'mon, farmgirl, you reckon you have all this stamina." He put his hand on her pelvis and pushed her up into a sitting position. "That's it," he said encouragingly when she began riding him. He grabbed her hips and assisted her until she was exhausted from the effort and he flipped her onto her stomach, repenetrating her with barely a pause. He was pounding her hard, and she could feel his balls banging against her ass and knew she should be ashamed of enjoying herself so much, but she just couldn't manage.

"Jack, you know I love this, but I need a break," she said after they were lying in bed together. Although she had no doubt if Jack wanted to go again in an hour, it wouldn't take much for her to be doing exactly what she wanted to do.

"I'm getting a little tired," he admitted. He was lying on his back with her head against his chest, her hair fanned out against it. He stroked it idly, like he'd said he did, and said lazily, "while I love this time with you, part of me wants Ben to come home early."

She stirred, sensing trouble. "Why?" she asked.

"So we can tell him about us, silly," he said. "Or have you miss the last year of hint about him wanting us to get back together?"

She tensed up. She should have known it was coming. His comments about being her boyfriend, her being his girlfriend, the amount of times he had told her he loved her, both while they were having sex and afterwards."Jack, I don't want Ben to know."

He laughed in confusion. "I don't know how you plan on hiding it."

"Well... I just figured we could, you know, keep it casual," she said, knowing as she said the words how much Jack would hate the idea.

"Keep it casual?" he asked suspiciously. "What, like we carry on as usual but at nights I come into your room?"

"Um... something like that."

He clenched his jaw. "And what the hell in the last day made you think I would be happy with that? Or the last year, for that matter."

"Well, you keep going on about how much you want me, and I just thought – "

"I keep going on about how much I want to _be_ with you. Like a couple. Like how we used to be," he interrupted her. "God, all this time I've talked about loving you and being your girlfriend and you thought, what I just wanted to get laid?"

This wasn't going the way Gabrielle had intended it to go; in her mind, Jack would be quite happy with the arrangement. "It seems to suit you and Lindsay."

"I don't love Lindsay."

"Yeah, and how am I supposed to believe that? You said you loved me and then you went and screwed _her_."

"You said nothing was ever going to happen between us!" Jack jumped out of bed and dressed as quickly as he could, suddenly feeling very vulnerable naked when a few minutes ago it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. "I don't believe this. You know how I feel about you and you seriously think I'd be happy with _this?_ Jesus, Gabby, do you know how _happy_ I was when you kissed me yesterday? I thought you wanted a proper relationship."

"I would have thought you'd be happy with such an arrangement," Gabrielle said, wondering how things had gone so wrong. "You get all the sex you want and none of the complications."

"I _want_ the complications, you stupid girl. I _want_ a relationship." He waited for Gabrielle to realise her mistake and come to her senses. Then with a sickening feeling in his stomach, he realised what the problem was. "You still don't trust me," he said flatly. "That's it, isn't it? You know what I think the problem is, Gabrielle? I think _you_ don't want the complications. I think _you_ want all the benefits of a sexual relationship with none of the complications. And you _knew_ that's not what I wanted to you just didn't care."

"Jack –"

"No. I don't want to hear it. You know what? If you don't trust me, that's fine. But don't come to me with your stupid propositions and expect me to bite."

"Where are you going?" she asked him.

"Out," he snapped, and she suspected the worst; that he had gone to see Lindsay.

Jack returned two days later after two days of not answering his phone. "I was with Jane, before you ask," he said. "I needed to let off some steam and figured it was best to avoid the usual temptations."

"So I'm supposed to be impressed with that?" she asked, hurting from the last two days of thinking he was with Lindsay.

"I don't give a crap if you're impressed or not," Jack said resignedly, and Gabrielle was more frightened by that tone than when he had been angry. "You hurt me, Gabrielle. I don't think you comprehend just how much. You keep going on about how much I broke your heart, but guess what? You broke mine, so consider us even."

"Jack – "

"_Please_ don't interrupt me, I'm not in the mood. Look, we have to get past this, for Ben's sake. So how about this time when you say there's no hope for us, you actually mean it and don't come onto me a few months from now?"

"Jack, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well, you did. And it floors me that you didn't know me any better. What, has _nothing_ I have said in the last year meant anything to you? I – " he stopped short, a fresh round of tears threatening. "You don't know me at all if you think I'd be happy with what you were proposing. So here's what I proposed: we need to get along for Ben's sake, so let's try and forget it ever happened."

"If that's what you want," she said in a small voice. There was a sad resignation in his proposition that unsettled her more than any of his tempers.

"It's not what I want, it's what I think is the best solution given the circumstances," he corrected her. And then he locked himself in his room to cry.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay. I've been writing a lot for Harry Potter and gotten really involved with I have gabbynsteve4eva to kick my ass whenever I take too long :p  
**

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Does he always take things this badly?" Rachel Simms asked Erica after an exceptionally busy day in the ED. A multi-casualty MVA on her first day temping here. Well, it certainly made for an interesting experience, the life of a tempt nurse. She couldn't help but be attracted to Jack, and Erica seemed like a good source of information.

"It's the second patient he's lost today," Erica explained. "And I think he and Gabrielle are fighting."

"Gabrielle? As in the NUM?" Rachel asked. Erica nodded. "Are they together?"

"Nope. No-one knows what's up with them; I don't think even _they_ know," Erica said. "Every couple of months it seems like they're about to get their shit together and then something happens and they're back at square one. It's a shame, 'cos they're such good parents, and I think if they put half the energy into doing to right thing by Ben into doing the right thing by each _other_, I think they could make it work."

"He has a son?" Rachel asked, disappointed.

"Yeah, Ben. He's six. Seven in a few months, I think."

"Wow. They don't seem old enough to have a son that age."

Erica bit her lip in concentration, trying to remember the maths. "I think he was twenty and she was eighteen. There are younger parents than that."

"And they've broken up since? Were they ever together?"

Erica looked at Rachel suspiciously. "They broke up before Ben was born," she said carefully, sharing the information only because it was such public knowledge and if Rachel was really determined to know, she would find it from someone. "He didn't even know about Ben, they only met up again by accident. Look, what is this about? Because they have a really convoluted relationship, I don't think he's someone you want to get involved with."

Rachel shrugged, pretending like it was just a passing fancy when actually she had been really interested in him, from what she had seen. "Just curious," she said. "I like to know who I'm working with, and the way he reacted today seemed a bit much."

"He's very professional, if that's what you wanted to know, and a great dad and loyal friend. If it wasn't for his history with Gabrielle, he'd be totally dateable."

Jack caught up with her later. "I hear you were asking about me," he said.

Rachel was mortified. Bad enough to have Erica call her on her interest in Jack, worse still for Jack himself to take her up on it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I just like knowing who I'm working with and the way you reacted seemed a bit overboard. But Ricki explained it was the second patient you'd lost so that made sense."

Thankfully, Jack took her explanation at face value. "You handled yourself well out there today," he said. "Not many people get on with Frank."

"Thanks. I've known worse heads of department than him. At least he really cares about the people he treats. I heard you guys had Bianca Frost for a while. What's so funny?" she asked when Jack started to laugh.

"Nothing. I went to uni with Bianca and did something to piss her off. She never forgave me. It just amused me because you clearly haven't been here for long. I've been providing this fine institution's gossip vine for the last three years and most people know not to bring up Bianca around me. Or Gabrielle for that matter," he added ruefully.

Rachel looked at Jack with confusion. "Sorry, if _you_ pissed Bianca off, what's Gabrielle got to do with it?"

Jack grinned sheepishly. "Guess I put my foot in it," he said, and sat down to briefly explain what had happened. It was hospital folk lore by this point, so he may as well set Rachel straight and maybe have her knowing what actually happened.

She whistled when he explained to her what had happened. "Pretty lousy thing to do," she said.

"Yeah, well, I have a six-year-old son who I only knew existed a year ago, I think I've done my penance," Jack said.

"Sorry, didn't mean to put you down. Do you have a photo?" Jack was only too happy to pull out a photo of him and Ben. He had intentionally taken out the one of the three of them after Gabrielle had broken his heart. Things were still a little strained between them, but they were both doing their best to be friendly towards one another for Ben's sake. "He looks so much like you," she said admiringly.

"And he's smart, too. He's head of his class at White's."

"Wow. You must be proud."

"I am. He's everything to me. I just wish I had known him all his life."

"It sounds like he's got a pretty good dad, even if he got him a bit late," Rachel said sympathetically.

Jack smiled gratefully at her, and Rachel found herself smiling back. She wondered how much of what Erica had said about him and Gabrielle having a convoluted relationship was true; he certainly didn't _seem_ particularly hung up, although a little bitter that he had missed out on so much of Ben's life. "Oh, there you are, Jack. Are you free this Saturday night? Julia's coming up and it would be nice to have a girl's night out," Gabrielle said, walking through the door. "Oh, hi, Rachel," she said as an afterthought.

"That's fine," Jack said. "I was just planning on having Bec over for some DVDs."

Laughing, Gabrielle turned to Rachel. "He and his sisters are the biggest snobs. They don't watch anything that was released after nineteen seventy, unless it has subtitles."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Rachel said. "I like old movies, too."

"Huh," Gabrielle said. It wasn't anything tangible, but she didn't like the way Rachel was so quick to come to Jack's defence when she had made fun of his taste in movies. Or the way they were smiling at one another when she had walked in. But then, she knew she got jealous easily whenever he struck up a camaraderie with any woman. He had kept his distance ever since their disastrous liaison after her birthday. She couldn't believe how much she missed their old connection, and she deeply regretted misunderstanding what he wanted from her. But there was no point in crying over that now, and it was ridiculous for her to be jealous of Rachel. She was too young for him, anyway. "How are you finding it?" she asked Rachel.

"It's fine, not as bad as I expected, given Frank's reputation."

"So you want to come back then?" Gabrielle asked hopefully, forgetting her jealousy at the thought of having as competent a nurse as Rachel on board. "How about tomorrow?"

* * *

"I think you just made a friend," Jack said after Gabrielle had left.

"What do you think of Rachel?" Gabrielle asked that night over dinner.

"I didn't speak to her for long, but she seems like a nice kid," Jack said. "Why?"

"Erica seemed to think she has a crush on you."

Jack laughed at that. "I only met her today. I think I worried her, the way I reacted about losing two patients." It still bugged him, and he wished he and Gabrielle were still close enough that he could talk to her about it.

"She's too young for you, anyway," Gabrielle said, secretly pleased that Jack had dismissed her as a kid – albeit a nice one – and dismissed the idea she might have a crush on him.

Her words piqued his attention, as well as the tone in her voice. "She can't be much younger than you. She's got to be at least twenty-one."

"Oh, that came up in conversation, did it?" Gabrielle asked. What was Jack doing asking a strange girl her age.

"Uh, no... basic maths, eighteen plus three." Gabrielle was mortified to realise Jack was right – he had simply taken the average age of a high-school graduate and the time of a nursing degree – and she had just made herself look petty. "Why, you jealous?" Jack teased.

"Of course not."

Jack eyed her pointedly, then let it go. While it was kind of flattering to think that Gabrielle was jealous of Rachel, she couldn't be _that_ jealous because nothing had changed between them.

* * *

"OK, I can't believe this stupid thing is bugging me, but how old are you?" Jack asked Rachel a few days later.

"Twenty-three, why?"

"Something Gabrielle said, and it got stuck in my head," Jack said.

"Well, you can't just leave it there," Rachel protested. "And why didn't you just look it up if you were that curious?"

"Because I don't like pulling people's personnel files out of personal interest. It's like snooping. And it's stupid."

"Let me be the judge of that." And Rachel was impressed that he had asked her rather than pull her file, for exactly the reason he said. She wouldn't gave given a crap that he had pulled her personnel file over an idle curiosity, but it was nice that he hadn't.

"Erica thought maybe you had a thing for me, which made Gabrielle say that you were too young for me, which is stupid, 'cos you're only two years younger than she is."

"Oh." Rachel hoped her make-up hid her blushing. She felt embarrassed that she had been so obvious it had gotten back to Gabrielle. "I didn't mean to step on her turf."

"I'm not her turf," Jack countered.

"I'm sorry – I thought you lived with her."

"I do. It's purely a practical arrangement. I don't like not living with Ben. I have a legal tenancy agreement and my own room. You can come over and see if you like," he added, a touch too defiantly. "Sorry," he said when he realised how stupid that sounded. "We just get a lot of flak for the arrangement."

"It _does_ sound a little odd," Rachel said, pleased that the arrangement, however unorthodox, was a purely practical one. So Gabrielle had no claim to him.

"I know. It just frustrates me how determined people are to believe we're together. We have a young son who would _love_ to see us back together, it's not something we would be hiding if we were. But we get along well and neither of us wants to live away from Ben, so this is the only solution that makes sense."

Rachel nodded; it made sense to her. "Have you ever thought about getting back together?" she asked.

"Of course I have. I'd be a bad dad if I didn't want my son to have his parents together. But what I want and what's the best for everyone aren't always the same thing. Everytime I thought we were close to getting back together, something happens that puts us back at square one. You bang your head against a brick wall enough times and you start to think you're just incompatible. Sorry, I'm dumping all my problems onto you," he said.

"That's fine. I like talking to you."

"I like talking to you, too. You know you actually remind me a little of Gabrielle when I first met her. Very mature for you age. I wouldn't have pegged you as twenty-three."

"See, now you're just saying I look older than I am," Rachel protested playfully.

"Of course I'm not. Like, I met Jane when she was a little younger than you, and she didn't have the same professionalism and maturity you do."

"Really?" Rachel asked, pleased to be called mature and professional compared to Jane Grey when she had been the same age. "I just can't picture Jane being anything _but_ being mature and professional."

"Part of that is Mary – you can't be a single parent without either seriously growing up or having DOCS constantly on your ass. And part of that I think was me. We kind of rubbed off on one another. I taught her that not everyone grew up with daddy's credit card to use how they wished, and she taught me not to speaking like an uneducated working-class kid."

Rachel laughed at that. She couldn't picture Jack as anything but a highly-educated man who read Tolstoy in Russian for fun. "Now I _know_ you're making shit up."

"Go ask Zoe then." And he found himself telling Rachel about the time Jane had attempted to pass herself off as his sister, while overlooking the fact they looked nothing alike, didn't have the same last name or even the same accent. Rachel found herself thoroughly enjoying Jack's company, and she was sorry when his pager went off and he had to go to surgery.

* * *

"For a surgeon, you spend an awful lot of time here," Rachel commented a few days later.

"I like it here better, I have more mates here than I do in the surgical unit, and if Gabrielle needs me, it's easier for her to find me here then go running upstairs."

"And here was me thinking you were coming to see me," Rachel quipped, not sure what possessed her to say such a thing, but Jack didn't seem to mind. "What are you reading?" He held up a rather-battered copy of _Gone With the Wind_. "Oooh, I loved that movie... but it doesn't seem like something a twenty-something guy would like."

"It was one of the first books I picked up when they let me wander through the adults section in the library," Jack said. "Chose it at random 'cos it was nice and big and it's sort of got sentimental value for me. And hey – if you liked the movie, do you want to see it with me? It's just there's a theatre that specialises in old movies and it's playing on Thursday. I hate seeing movies alone and no-one else I know likes old movies."

Rachel was stunned to hear such an invitation come from Jack. It was what she had been after, but she still hadn't been expecting it. "I, uh – " she said.

"Don't worry about it, then, I know I have a pretty foul reputation," Jack said.

"No, it's not that – I'm just surprised, that's all. I know Gabrielle said you were into old movies, but I didn't expect you to be into _Gone With the Wind_. I'd love to go with you. Thursday?"

"Yep. Here, give me your address and I'll pick you up, say, seven-thirty? Movie starts at eight." Rachel scribbled down her address and phone number for Jack. His pager went off again. "Sorry," he said. "I have to go." He started to leave the tea-room before remembering something. "Rachel?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"If I were you, I wouldn't say anything to anyone about this. I don't have a very good reputation when it comes to women, and you don't want to get people started about us going out together."

* * *

"You want to come it for a drink?" Rachel asked. It was late, but she had had a great time with Jack and was reluctant for the night to end just yet. Besides, she was wired from the coffee they'd had after the movie; a drink would help calm her down.

"Sounds good," he said, just as wired from the coffee and just as reluctant to see the night end just yet. It had been a terrific date – if it _was_ a date, he wasn't sure, but it sure felt like one – and he was happy to come in for a drink. "Nice place," he said, a trifle smugly when he saw the run-down apartment building Rachel lived in.

"Says the working-class boy," she retorted, just as smugly. "I'm not living off a combined surgeon-NUM income. It's nicer inside."

"I'll give you that," Jack conceded when she let him into her apartment. It was nicely, if somewhat cheaply furnished. "My step-mother didn't do up her place as nicely. Mind you, she had three boys running around, I guess it's difficult to have nice things when you have three boys constantly jumping on and running into things. Not to mention tracking in mud everywhere."

Rachel laughed good-naturedly at that. "I can't see you as jumping on furniture and tracking mud in," she said. Jack let that one slide. He wasn't about to tell her that Stella had hated him and he hadn't dared jump on things and track mud in, even if his brothers did it with abandon. "I'll just get that drink. I've got beer, wine, OJ – "

"I can think of other cravings to satiate," he said huskily, and kissed her. She tasted nice, like expensive coffee and something that was just _good_.

She had been half-expecting him to kiss her – after all, he had already warned her that he had a pretty bad reputation when it came to women – but was still a little surprised, because she was also half-expecting him to be on his best behaviour to make a point that he _could_ behave himself around women. And yet – this didn't feel like a player who was hitting on every woman he could get alone. They had a genuine rapport from the times they had run into each other in the ED, and she'd had a terrific night tonight.

Plus, he was a great kisser; it had been a while since she had been with someone who could kiss as well as Jack. Idly she wondered if it was because Jack was older than her or if he was just someone who wasn't deeply selfish about his own pleasure. She opened her mouth to let his tongue in and was pleasantly surprised by the combination of passion and gentleness that he applied to kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck – he had washed his hair, which was rare enough in the guys she knew – and allowed him to pick her up and carry her to the couch with surprising co-ordination given he had never been in her apartment before, or picked her up – in the literal sense of the word – let alone do both at the same time. "Jack," she said his name as he settled her down on the couch on top of him, wedging his hand between her thighs to indicate he wanted her to straddle him. If he called her Gabrielle...

"Rachel," he said, and he took her sigh of relief as desire. She was wearing a skirt that was too tight to make it entirely comfortable for her to straddle him, and he solved that problem by pushing it up to her thighs. He didn't move his hand from the back of his thigh after it was done, and kept his other hand securely around her back, supporting her. "Rachel," he said again, and he was struck by the urge to tell her how nice she felt, in a clean, sexy way, but he didn't think that would go down well.

She was wearing an off-the-shoulder peasant top that buttoned down and he started undoing the buttons, searching her body language for any sign of resistance. He got none. He ran his tongue over her collarbone and she shuddered with desire. He felt her hands through his hair and resisted the urge to tell her what to do.

She got bolder as she felt more comfortable and more turned on by him, anyway, undoing the buttons of his own shirt and running her hands down his bare chest. He leaned back against the couch for better support and she started kissing his face and neck. Reluctantly he shied away when he could feel her start to apply pressure on his neck; he was vaguely aware that he would be well and truly in for it if he showed up to work with a hickey when everyone knew his and Gabrielle's relationship was strained lately. "I mark really easily," he said, which was true enough; Stella had learned very early on only to hit him where his clothes usually covered. He undid her shirt all the way so it came away completely, although he didn't pull it off her shoulders; there was something very sexy about the way it was completely undone with her bra being exposed without actually being off. He started kissing the swell off her breasts that weren't confined by her hair and she groaned and yanked his head against her body, clear permission that _he_ could leave as many marks as he liked, particularly on those parts of her body that would be covered by her clothes.

He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing the material onto the floor. "You've got great tits," he murmured huskily, reaching for them.

"They're too small," she complained.

"Any bigger and you'd look freakish," Jack said. He had never understood the Anna-Nicole Smith-esque obsession with having ridiculously large breasts that were out of proportion to a woman's frame. And to prove he liked Rachel just the way she was, he took one breast in his mouth, licking and sucking, biting gently, rolling his tongue over her nipple until she was bucking against him and it was taking considerable strength to keep her upright. When he had her thoroughly worked up, he moved to the other one. Rachel clutched the back of his head, fisting his hair in her fingers in a way that would have hurt had he not been so turned on. After a few minutes she was crying out his name in uninhibited ecstasy, and Jack slid one hand up the inside of her thigh, his fingers snaking under the elastic of her underwear, zoning in on her most private place. He slid his fingers inside her and used his thumb to stroke her.

"Jack..." she moaned, leaving no doubt in his mind that she wanted him. He fingered her for a few minutes, making sure to bring her close to orgasm without pushing her over the edge; he had a strong desire to be inside her when that happened. Soon, she was moaning and rocking against him, her body straining as she sought the release Jack was promising.

He lifted her up slightly so he could remove her panties, and at the same time pulling his wallet out of his pocket so he could get a condom. He swiftly unzipped his pants, yanking them and his boxers down his thighs, and removed the condom from its packaging and rolled it down his erection. He grabbed Rachel's hips and lowered her onto his erection, the impact of the touch even through the condom making him shudder. She was warm and wet and he buried himself in her slickness, keeping still inside her for a few seconds to savour the feeling. Then he started thrusting, his fingers stroking her to orgasm.

Rachel gripped Jack's neck tightly. He was bigger than any other man she'd been with, and he was opening her up in a way that was oddly pleasurable. She pumped her legs and rode him, trying to keep up with him as he moved faster and faster inside her. The feel of his erection pumping inside her was the sexiest thing she could remember, and the feel of his fingers stroking her most sensitive parts was exquisite. She arched her back as she climaxed and Jack stroked her relentlessly so it felt like her orgasm lasted forever.

Finally he stiffened underneath her and gave one last, hard thrust, ramming his pelvis against hers, burying himself in her to the hilt, and with a drawn-out groan climaxed himself. Pulling Rachel towards her, he buried his face in her neck. Even through the condom Rachel could feel him ejaculating and as practical a necessity as it was, she wished he could be inside her without the barrier.

After a minute Jack withdrew reluctantly to take the condom off. He pulled a small zip-lock bag out of his wallet and dropped the condom in it. "I could totally go that beer right now," he said. Rachel got up stiffly, buttoning up her shirt, and went to the fridge.

"Anything in particular?" she asked.

"A girl with a variety of beer, I like you more ever minute," Jack teased. "Anything so long as it's not VB."

"What's wrong with VB?" Rachel asked.

"Russel Jaeger, being your stereotypical ignorant farmer hick living close to the border, considered it the best beer ever, and I make a point to boycott anything he likes. Except Ben," he added. Rachel wasn't in his line of sight to notice her stiffen when he mentioned Gabrielle's father.

She returned with two TEDs. "Here," she said, handing him a bottle. She sat down on the couch, her back turned to him and as far away from him as she could manage and still be on the couch, opened her beer and drank from it.

Jack opened his beer and took a long swig. "I'm ashamed to say I probably inherited it from my dad, but there's something nice about a drink after sex," he said, before realising that not only was Rachel not responding to him, but she was sitting stiffly, like she was angry. "Hey," he said. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No," she said shortly, too shortly for it to be the truth.

"Then don't turn your back to me after we've been intimate." Jack grabbed her around the waist and hauled her onto his lap. Rachel squealed indignantly but he ignored her and wrapped his arm around her to tightly for her to wriggle out of his hold. "Now what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Well, it couldn't have been the bad sex," he quipped, and from the way her shoulders tensed, he got what it was. "I'm not very good at reading girls like you," he admitted.

"What do you mean _girls like me_?" she asked snappishly.

"Girls who don't feel comfortable having sex on the first date. Actually, I think the last girl like that I was involved with was Gabrielle." Rachel flinched at her name, but Jack chalked it off to the feelings she was experiencing. "Look," he said gently, "I don't get that hang up. I mean, I _get_ it –" God knew, there were plenty of men out there who thought sex on the first night was a right, but once it was done, all respect for the woman was gone, "but I think it's stupid. What's the point of starting a relationship if you don't know you're sexually compatible?"

"Relationship?" Rachel echoed dumbly.

"Yeah, you know that thing when two people like each other and they go out together and sleep together and stuff?" Jack teased. "What, you think I'm dumb enough to have sex with someone I work with if I have no intention of seeing them again?"

"Not dumb, maybe horny," Rachel admitted, smiling in spite of herself that Jack had called her on her feelings.

"If you're going to engage in casual sex with someone you work with, you'd better make damn sure that you both know exactly what's going on," Jack declared. "If I just wanted to get laid, Rachel, I would have made, uh, other arrangements," he said vaguely, feeling suddenly embarrassed that he had such arrangements with people like Lindsay. "But I like you and I had a good time with you and I'm damn attracted to you and I want to see you again. Do you have a problem with that?" he asked grandly.

"No," Rachel said, quite liking the idea of her and Jack doing this again. But the shadow of Gabrielle crept into her thoughts. She was her boss, and Jack's ex, and they lived together and had a child together and everyone said they were meant for one another."Jack, when did you and Gabrielle last sleep together?" she asked.

Jack squirmed, knowing Rachel already knew the answer. "Why do you ask?" he asked.

"Because I heard this story about you and her at Ben's birthday and – Jack, how do you feel about her? I mean, if you were all over each other a few weeks ago – I don't want to be the person you're with because you can't have the person you want."

"We slept together," he admitted. "I thought I had finally gotten her to trust me and it turned out she only wanted to sleep with me when she knew damn well I wanted a relationship. I thought we had finally gotten out shit together, but – I think now that we were never meant to be. Or that we were only meant to be a teenage couple. Or something. But I'm over her. I've got to be, Ben will pay for it in the end. I'm not hung up on her or on the rebound or anything like that. I wouldn't screw around with you if I was. Do you believe me?" Rachel nodded, wanting desperately to believe him. He kissed the top of her head. "Good girl," he said, even though she was only four years younger than him.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, drinking their beers, when Rachel asked, "Do you always carry around those zip-lock bags?" Jack nodded. "You are such a boy scout," she cracked.

"I never went to boy scouts, and I'm pretty sure they didn't teach the kids about safe sex," Jack said. Then he turned serious. "I don't know why more guys don't take care of stuff like that. I mean, yeah, it's not as nice but – " he shrugged, thinking about the past, and Rachel immediately sensed that he was thinking about something unhappy. "I got two different women pregnant by the time I was twenty-five and had syphilis twice by the time I was twenty. Maybe I've just been unlucky, but I don't like the idea of trusting anyone else with my sexual health or contraception."

Rachel was surprised at that; it was a sensible mentality, but still, there weren't a lot of guys out there that thought like that. But then, pregnancy was considered the woman's responsibility, and it was easier for women to get STDs then men, so maybe guys just had the luxury of being able to take less responsibility. "So, what – you'd _always_ want to use condoms?" she asked.

"No, of course not. Give this thing a few months and if we're still seeing each other, we'll get blood tests. And let me replace this," he said, running his fingers lightly across the slightly raised ridge that her implant made on her arm.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Too many doctors don't know what they're doing. It would give me peace of mind to know it's my own work."

Rachel laughed drily. "I don't know to be impressed by your sense of responsibility or concerned about your obsession with control."

Jack shrugged. "As I said, maybe I've been unlucky, but it gives me peace of mind."

Rachel threaded her fingers through Jack's. "So what happens now?" she asked. "Do we tell people?" She had never gone out with a colleague before and had no idea how it worked. She thought about going to Cougars with Jack, holding hands, maybe sitting in his lap, and blushed at the thrill of it.

"Um... listen, Rachel, I don't want to hurt your feelings here, but I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because I have an atrocious reputation and I don't want people talking about you. At least not until we know where we stand with each other. The second people know we're seeing each other, they'll be talking about you being a slut and easy and that – Gabrielle went through that when people found out we used to go out and I don't want to put you through that if nothing comes of this," he said, stroking her hand with his free one to indicate that 'this' meant 'them'. "Look, I'm not trying to hide you away, if that's what you're thinking. I just don't want to put you through anything you don't need to go through."

Rachel nodded slightly. She got it intellectually, but it still sucked to know she would have to keep this quiet when she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. And then there was the stuff with Jack's reputation – exactly how many women had he slept with? She knew a lot of it was the viciousness of Deanna Richardson and Bianca Frost, but still, there had to be _some_ element of truth to it. Reputations like that didn't just spring from nowhere. "Jack?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah?"

"You know how you and Gabrielle broke up – well – um – " she stumbled with the words, not knowing how to put it.

"How I cheated on her?" Jack asked. Rachel nodded. "She was the only woman I ever cheated on," he said. He had long ago decided that his one-night stand with Charlotte didn't count; Terri had already broken up with him – he wouldn't have slept with Charlotte if it hadn't been for that. "I was nineteen and thought I was entitled to it. I lost the girl I loved and I've only known by six-year-old son for a year. Believe me, I've learnt my lesson. Whatever happens between us, I won't cheat on you. But I expect the same of you," he added.

"Of course," she said. Like she would _want_ to cheat on Jack. Gorgeous, fun to be around, great in bed – or on the couch – why would she want more than that?

"Good," he said, and he leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back, and he pushed her onto her back with him on top of her. He unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her breasts again – now peppered with the marks from their previous liaison – and touching her in a way that soon had her writhing underneath him. "Jack," she gasped, when he finally abandoned kissing her mouth to kiss her neck, "Jack, please – can we go to my room?"

He got off her. "Of course," he said, getting to his feet and holding out his hand for her. He scooped her into his arms as easily as if she were a doll, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his muscles tense under the load. She could definitely get used to being carried around by him.

Afterwards, she lay in his arms and started drifting off to sleep. "Rachel," Jack said, nudging her gently. "Rachel, I have to go."

She groaned. "Can't you stay?" she asked.

He kissed her bare shoulder. "Ben knows my schedule and he gets upset if I'm not there to see him off to school if I don't have to work." Reluctantly, Rachel threw on her robe and saw Jack out.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "Parent-Teacher night," he said. Then, seeing that Rachel was upset that he had turned her down twice because of commitments to Ben, he said, "Look, it finishes at eight, so maybe I can swing by after?" he asked, although silently he knew that that was unlikely. It was Ben's first Parent-Teacher night, and he was looking forward to showing his parents what he'd been doing and having them meet his new friends. She nodded reluctantly; she understood that he had other things on, but the fact that those other things included Gabrielle made her feel jealous. "And, look, if I can't make it, I can definitely make it on Saturday. We'll order take-out, watch a DVD, screw each other's brains out?" he suggested, and she blushed to think of it. He leaned in to kiss her, and spent several minutes kissing her in the doorframe before he reluctantly pulled away from her. "See you around," he said huskily, and she nodded, watching him go.

* * *

"When did you get in last night?" Gabrielle asked.

"About two," Jack said honestly.

"Where were you?"

"Out," he said shortly. Ever since Ben's birthday, he had been cool towards her and only provided her with the sparsest of details about what he got up to when he wasn't at work or with them.

Gabrielle didn't push it. She knew that by turning him down, she had created a distance between them and he no longer wanted to share his life with her the way he once had. She was sorry for the distance it had created between them; she hadn't realised how much he had meant to her until he withdrew from her. "Don't forget it's Parent-teacher night tonight," she said.

"I'd hardly forget something so important as my son's first Parent-Teacher night," Jack said shortly, secretly wishing that it was on some other night – a night, say, that Rachel was working. Thinking about her, he felt the heat from her touch on his skin, and hoped Gabrielle didn't notice that he was distracted. For some reason, he didn't want Gabrielle to know about them. Of course, she had no claim to him, but still...

"Be ready to go at six, then," she said, and Jack nodded. She left the room, wondering what was on Jack's mind. She didn't dare ask these days.

Jack frowned when Rachel touched his arm in a way that anyone with a brain would know was more than just professional affection between colleagues. And the way she smiled at him – not that he didn't appreciate the attention, but really, what part of last night's explanation did she not understand?

Rachel saw Jack frown, and a little part of her died inside. She had understood that they had to act like nothing had happened between them last night, but it was still hard to be around her lover – her _lover!_ – and act like they were nothing more than mates. Not even mates – just colleagues.

It went on all day, and Jack become more and more irritated with Rachel. He knew she was just a girl falling for him, but bloody hell, she had a university degree, surely she understood how dire the consequences could be if people found out they had slept together before they themselves had worked out what exactly they were? She probably wasn't even aware she was even doing it – she was, after all, a girl falling for someone who wanted to show it. He just wished she would cut it out.

He waited for her at her car at the end of the day. It was a risk, but he needed to talk to her, and there was no other opportunity to do so. She beamed when she saw him and went to hug him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled away roughly and tried not to notice the forlorn look of rejection on her face when he did so. "Look, Rachel, do you _want_ to be known as my newest whore?" he asked. He didn't want to be so harsh with her, but didn't know how else to get across how risky her displays of affection were.

"Of course not," she said.

"Then don't wear your heart on your sleeve. Jesus, babe, what did I tell you last night? People know we slept together and they'll start talking about us – about _you_. They'll call you easy and a whore if you're lucky. Gabrielle was assaulted a few times. I had to punch a few noses to make it clear no-one messes with her, and I don't feel like running around making sure no-one's talking shit about you and assaulting you."

To her embarrassment, Rachel felt tears well in her eyes. "I just wanted to give you this," she said, fishing a silver key out of her pocket.

"What's this?"

"The key to my apartment. I figured since we both work shift work it would be easier for you to be able to let yourself in then try and co-ordinate times. But if you don't want it..."

He had made her cry, how was he supposed to turn her down now? Besides, it was a genuinely thoughtful gesture. "Are you sure?" he asked. "It's such a big gift and I can't exactly return the favour."

She nodded. "I trust you're not some stalker freak who won't return a girl's key when she asks for it back," she said.

He took the proffered key and pocketed it. "Thankyou," he said, genuinely humbled at the thoughtfulness of the key. He'd never had a woman give him a key before – admittedly, he hardly dated for that to be an issue, but still, it was very thoughtful. He scanned the parking lot, and seeing that there was no-one around to witness it, he kissed her. After all, a little affection was only what he owed her for neglecting her all day and giving him a key? Rachel kissed him back, hungry for the affection, and for a few minutes, they kissed against the frame of her car. "I really should get going," he said huskily when he forced himself to pull away, again wishing that Ben's Parent-Teacher night was on a different night. "But I'll try come over tonight if I can." Rachel nodded, pleased that things with her and Jack were OK again – she had thought maybe she had overstepped her mark with him today. Jack headed off.

Zoe had been coming around the corner when she had noticed Jack waiting by Rachel's car. She had stopped and hidden behind a pillar, remembering the gossip that Rachel had a thing for him – and that Jack wasn't exactly discouraging her. She watched her go to hug him, and him push her away, only for them to be kissing shortly after. She frowned. She had seen a certain spark between the two of them, so she supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise that they had hooked up. But whatever he had with Rachel, it couldn't compare with what he had with Gabrielle – and besides, wasn't it kind of tacky to get involved with one of Gabrielle's subordinates when they had such a convoluted relationship? And he had a pretty foul – if somewhat undeserved – reputation with women, what was she thinking? Really, they had been lucky that it had been she who had come across them, not someone else – someone more inclined to gossip.

She made a mental note to confront Jack about it. If he wanted to get laid, well, he was a free agent. But you'd think he would have more class than to pursue someone he worked with – and a subordinate of Gabrielle's, no less.

* * *

"He's doing phenomenally well," John Fitzgerald told Jack and Gabrielle later that evening. "I know it can't compare, but I think he's doing better than you were at his age, Jack."

Jack beamed. "They're not exactly comparable institutions," he said, pleased as punch that Ben was doing so well.

"And he gets along with the other kids really well, too. I think he's inherited that from you," John said to Jack. He didn't inform Ben's parents of the time one of the more abusive children in Ben's year had made fun of the fact his parents had never been married; Ben had quickly shot back that his parents lived together, which put them in a minority of parents given how high the divorce rate was (said kid had divorced parents). Nonetheless, it was indicative of a personality that bore few grudges but was able to defend himself and diffuse a situation with brain rather than brawn, something John had noticed in Jack several times. His quick wit had impressed many of his classmates, and he had proven himself to be popular because of his easy nature but quick intelligence that lacked the arrogance of many smart people.

"You haven't seen how diplomatic Gabrielle can be when she wants to be," Jack said, eager to share the credit with the mother of his son.

"I wanted to talk to the two of you about fast-tracking him so he can skip year two at the end of the year and go straight onto year three. He's already showing signs on being bored of his class work – and given that when he was first tested, he had very rudimentary literacy and numeracy skills, that's quite something – and there doesn't seem much point in holding him back when he could be doing much more with his mind."

Jack's eyes widened with pleasure and pride at the thought of his son being so smart – where a year ago he had been illiterate – that the principal wanted to bump him up a great. He forced himself to put a dampener on his feelings; he didn't want Ben to feel forced to achieve any more then he had been deliberately held back by a jealous step-mother. "We'll have to talk to him about it," he said. "I don't want him to feel like he has to do it."

"Jack reckons he'd be just as proud of Ben if he wanted to be a mechanic like his grandfather than a Nobel prize winner," Gabrielle quipped. Jack shot Gabrielle an affectionate look and impulsively threaded his fingers through hers. _Their son_ was so gifted that less than a year on from near-illiteracy the principal was talking about skipping him a grade.

John noticed it. There was no doubt about it, Jack and Gabrielle were one of the school's most in-sync parents, from pre-school through to year twelve. They sure as hell ran laps around some of the squabbling divorced parents he encountered all the time; whatever personal issues they had, they put aside for Ben's sake. It was nice to see that kind of responsibility in parents, and John wondered what was going on between them. They were clearly personally in sync and deeply fond of one another; was the love still there? Not that it was any of his business, but there were so many squabbling divorced parents within his school that it was nice to see ones that were on as excellent terms with one another as Jack and Gabrielle. Hell, they were on better terms with one another than most of the _married_ parents he knew.

Jack and Gabrielle did the rounds, meeting all Ben's friends. Most of their parents had already met Jack through his volunteer work with Whites – something he had sadly had to scale back in order to make time for Ben – but had yet to meet Gabrielle. Many of them found they shared John Fitzgerald's opinion, that they were two people strongly in sync and deeply fond of each other; some of the bitchier of the women made snide comments about the fact he had never married her, mostly jealous that their husbands – current of ex – didn't pay them the same kind of attention. "Why don't we go out for ice-cream and tell Ben about skipping a year," Gabrielle whispered in Jack's year, and Jack nodded his agreement, although part of him was disappointed because it meant that there was no way now he was going to catch up with Rachel. Well, he had already told her he might not be able to make it. He sent her a quick text. _Ben did well, gone for ice-cream. Not going to make it, see you tomorrow_. Then he switched his phone off in case Rachel texted him back or tried to call him; he didn't care to explain to Gabrielle what that was about should it happen.

They went out for ice-cream. "Takes after his dad," Jack said proudly when Ben ordered one of the biggest things on the menu. "My brothers were allergic to dairy," he explained. "I didn't get much ice-cream, or yoghurt, or milk when I was growing up. Now I can't get enough of the stuff."

"My other uncles?" Ben asked. Jack nodded, regretting that he had ever mentioned his father's family. He and Gabrielle had so little family between them; both their mothers were dead, she only had one sibling, he only had one sibling that he was on speaking terms with. He knew Ben craved an extended family; Brad and Sarah Grey did what they could (it was a fair trade; he had taken on Mary like she was his own, so they reciprocated with Ben) but it was hardly a family home overflowing with people. Ben wanted to know what family he did have; Jack was determined that Ben never be exposed to his father and brothers' behaviour. "How come we never see them?" he asked.

"They aren't very nice people," Jack said shortly. "You don't want to meet them." Usually Ben engaged in a debate with his father, who usually encouraged him, but tonight he knew it wasn't something Jack cared to discuss. "Listen, your mum and I took you out to talk about something. Mr. Fitzgerald thinks you're doing way better than most of the kids in your grade, and he wants to know if you're interested in taking on extra work from now until the end of the year so you can skip year two and go straight onto year three. Now, you don't have to," Jack said hurriedly, ignoring the bright, hopeful look in Ben's eyes. "I know you have your friends in your grade and if you don't want to move, we understand. We don't want you to do something you don't want to do."

"You mean – I would be with the smarter kids? Doing harder work?" Ben asked. Jack nodded, and Ben graced them with a smile bright enough to light up a Christmas tree.

Gabrielle laughed. "Sorry, mate, but I hardly knew anyone who _liked_ the idea of doing harder school work," she said. "Except maybe your dad. I'm sure he had someone like Lindsay encouraging _him_, too," she added, thinking that, whatever issues she had with the gorgeous librarian, Lindsay was good with Ben in a literary way that she could never be. Sometimes, she was surprised at how comfortable she was becoming with Lindsay in Jack and Ben's lives. Something told her that whatever sexual relationship they had shared in the past, they were just friends now, and Lindsay was very good for Ben. She was one of the few people who had instinctively understood that Ben was gifted, and had treated him as a ten-year-old rather than a sex-year-old with learning difficulties. She had helped bring Ben out of his shell, and she was grateful to the woman for it.

"Lindsay says dad wasn't much older than me when she first met him," Ben said.

"That's a lie," Jack said. "I was fifteen. That's practically three times your age. Lindsay just says that because she was twenty at the time, and to her, a fifteen-year-old was a baby."

"Really?" Gabrielle asked. "I didn't know you guys went back that far."

"She was a prac student and South Duncraig is, like, the best library in Sydney. At the time, I wanted to be a librarian because the idea of being surrounded by books all day was heaven to me. Anyway, I think I disconcerted the staff a little – they were all women over forty – that when they got Lindsay in as a prac student, they told her to talk to me. I guess to them fifteen and twenty were the same thing. At first, she thought I was just making a show of reading the books I was reading, but then she realised I was actually reading them and we hit it off from there."

Something told Gabrielle that that wasn't the whole story. She doubted a fifteen-year-old Jack had been much less horny than a nineteen-year-old Jack. But she made up her mind not to be jealous of whatever history Jack and Lindsay shared; despite the fact it turned out Jack had known Lindsay longer even than he had known her.

The three of them ended up staying up until close to midnight, despite the fact it was way past Ben's bedtime. It was just that they were enjoying themselves so much and none of them wanted it to end. "We did good, didn't we?" he asked Gabrielle after they had seen Ben to bed.

"Yeah, we did," Gabrielle said. For a second, she thought Jack was going to kiss her, and she thought of all the ways she would make it up to him for misjudging him if he did. But he didn't. He pulled away and wished her goodnight before going back to his own room, and she stood there, wondering how she mad misjudged the situation.

* * *

"Rachel? It's just me. I brought Chinese." Jack let himself into Rachel's house on Saturday evening. He walked into her living room – the same room where they had had sex on the couch – and sat down next to her, putting the plastic bags full of Chinese take-out boxes down next to him. "What's up? You look pissed," he commented.

"You said you would come over last night," she said in a small, tight voice.

"I said I would if I could," he countered. "And I messaged you."

"You never replied. Or answered my calls," she said.

"I didn't want to explain to Gabrielle who I was messaging and calling," he said. "Look, I wanted to get out of there early, I did, but Ben's principal thinks he could skip year two and we took him out for ice-cream. We didn't get home until close to midnight."

"Oh. I didn't know. Congratulations," she said, her heart not in it. So Jack had been with Gabrielle until close to midnight, had he? The thought made her jealous.

"She's my son's mother, Rachel," Jack reminded her.

"I know that," she said stiffly.

"He's always going to be a bigger priority than you," he informed her flatly.

"I know that, too, Jack."

"And she doesn't mean as much to me as you do," he finished. "Rachel, things between Gabrielle and I? They're over. You don't need to be jealous. I don't _like_ jealousy in girlfriends."

"Girlfriend?" she asked.

"Slip of the tongue," he admitted. "But – I would like you to be my girlfriend, if things go well. And Rachel, I can't stand jealousy in girlfriends. I've slept with a lot of women and some of them are still my friends – so you're going to have to deal with that. But I promise you that you will be the most special girl in my life, the most important person after Ben. How does that sound?"

That sounded good to her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Jack, what the hell is going on between you and Rachel?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Jack said in his most innocent voice, inwardly gnashing his teeth. Though later he thought about it he would come to the conclusion that he wasn't the least bit surprised Zoe had been the first to work out that there was something going on between him and Rachel.

Zoe looked pointedly at Jack. "Don't play innocent with me," she said. "I saw you, kissing her in the parking lot. And the way she looks at you – I'm surprised no-one else has cottoned onto how infatuated she is with her."

Jack scowled. He should have known that waiting for her in the parking lot was a bad idea; he should have waited until he could see her in private. "It's no-one's business but ours," he said, deciding the best thing to do was retreat into his privacy.

"Really? You don't think it's Gabrielle's?" Zoe asked.

"No, I don't. She made it clear what she wants – and it's certainly not me," he said, with a surprising amount of residual bitterness. It wasn't that he wasn't over her, he told himself, it was that she had allowed him to humiliate himself over his declarations of love and plans for the future when she'd never had any intention of being his girlfriend. "She doesn't have any claim to me."

"You don't think Ben has a right to know, then? You know how his heart's set on you and her getting back together."

"And what would telling Ben achieve at this point? We've only just started seeing each other, am I supposed to upset him when I don't even know what it is I have with Rachel?"

He had a point there; she and Sean had kept their relationship quiet for similar reasons, that there was no point in telling people and bringing a world of questions and gossip on them when they barely knew where they stood with one another. "OK, then, what about Rachel? She's so infatuated Jack, I think she's in love with you. Do you really think you can keep from hurting her? Do you really think you can make her the priority she clearly wants to be?"

"She knows I have a commitment to Ben," Jack said. "I told her that the very first night. She realises that. I don't think I'd be a very good dad if I didn't put him first, and she knows that."

_In principle, maybe,_ Zoe thought. But it was clear that Rachel was deeply infatuated with Jack – just as clear that, however fond of her he might be, he didn't return the depth of her feelings – and hard to believe that Rachel would never have issues with Jack's commitment to Ben. With the way he was devoted to Ben, every woman in his life was going to come a poor second.

Every woman except Gabrielle.

And that was another thing. She doubted Rachel knew a thing about Jack's troubled childhood, except maybe the fact he didn't get along with his dad and brothers – he used them as the butt of enough joke's that almost anyone could figure _that_ out. And somehow, she couldn't see Rachel as the kind of woman who could give Jack the support he needed when something from his past set him off. Gabrielle, on the other hand...

But she knew Jack, and knew he didn't take kindly to be told what to do. Especially since, even with so many people rooting for him and Gabrielle to get back together, there was no denying she had broken his heart when she had bluntly turned down his desire for a relationship. Zoe still wondered what Gabrielle had been thinking there; surely she had known Jack would never be happy with the friends-with-benefits relationship he was offering; did she really know him so little that she thought what he was happy with when it came to Lindsay he would be happy with when it came to Gabrielle?

Hmm, Lindsay. It hadn't surprised Zoe in the least to find out that most of the women Jack had dated over the years had been jealous of Lindsay; perhaps the only exception had been Terri Sullivan, who hadn't been in love with Jack to get jealous over _anyone_, even a sexy redhead that Jack went way back with who had had a great rapport with. Gabrielle had eventually settled into an uneasy alliance with her, realising that Jack wasn't seeing her anymore – if 'seeing' – was the right word for it, and recognising that she was very good for Ben.

It would take a very mature, secure woman to accept Lindsay as part of Jack's life, and if Gabrielle had struggled with it, then Zoe doubted Rachel would manage it too well. And in that Zoe thought Jack was vastly overestimating Rachel's capacity for handling all the history and baggage he brought to a relationship, just like he was underestimating how deeply she felt for him.

* * *

"Are you seeing someone?"

"Why do you ask?" Jack asked suspiciously, still irritated at Zoe for her comments about Rachel and Gabrielle. He didn't need it from her, and he certainly didn't need it from Travis.

"You seem rather content," Travis said, a little wistfully, causing Jack to feel guilty like he always did when the subject turned to his history with women. Travis was dying, and would die a virgin – in the hetero sense of the word – and he derived a certain happiness from listening to Jack talk about Ben and Gabrielle, because they were people he would never have in his own life. "I was wondering if you and Gabrielle got back together."

Jack had told Travis about their liaison at her birthday, and how cut up he had been when he'd found out that Gabrielle didn't want a relationship from him. Travis being Travis, he didn't understand why it was so important to have those last few conditions which would make it a 'proper' relationship when they were already friends and lovers, and didn't that combination make for the best of relationships? But Travis was dying, could very well die before he made it to court – something Jack suspected Travis was actually hoping for – and Jack knew he couldn't live with himself if he got snappy when Travis asked personal questions which, in all fairness, was directed from a genuinely desire to see Jack happy. "No," Jack said shortly, wishing people would stop thinking that it would be _so_ romantic if he and Gabrielle got back together. "Her name's Rachel."

"You've never mentioned her before," Travis said. He knew this because one day he had counted how many times Jack had mentioned Gabrielle, Jane, Lindsay, Zoe and Rebecca over the course of an afternoon mostly spent watching DVDs and playing board games – the most important women in his life. He had never heard mention of a Rachel.

"She just started working at the hospital, I've only known for her for a few weeks."

"As a surgeon?" Travis asked.

"As a tempt nurse in the ED."

Travis's eyes widened at the implications. "So Gabrielle's her boss?" he asked. Jack nodded slightly, wishing people would stop pointing that out. It made the whole thing seem sleazy. He couldn't help it if Rachel was Gabrielle's boss, and he certainly hadn't targeted her out of a perverse desire to get even with her; he would have been attracted to her regardless of the circumstances under which he had met her. The circumstances just made things a little more difficult, that was all. "You don't think that's a little... inappropriate?" Travis asked.

"I think you ask too many questions," Jack said shortly. "Sorry," he said immediately. Jack had shown Travis the most kindness of any other human being, and as a result, whenever Jack was short with him, Travis got this look like a puppy that had been kicked. "I wish I had met her under different circumstances. I don't like having to keep it a secret. But that's how I met her and I _really_ like her – I haven't been this excited about dating someone in, like, a year-and-a-half."

"Since Deanna," Travis offered.

Jack looked at Travis was surprise; he didn't mention his exes often, unless you counted Lindsay as an ex. (Did Jane count? They had technically been engaged, did that make her count as an ex?) "What do you do, wait until I'm gone and write everything I tell you down?"

"No, I just like hearing about your life," Travis said, wondering if maybe he had overstepped the mark in remembering everything Jack had said about his history with women. He changed the subject. "How do you think Ben will take it? When he finds out you have a girlfriend, I mean?"

"He'll either have a meltdown or refuse to speak to me," Jack admitted. "Either way, I don't think he'll take it too well." It was just one more reason to keep things quiet between him and Rachel until they worked out where they stood with each other. There was no point in incurring Ben's wrath unless it was over a woman he _really_ cared about.

* * *

"What's Bart doing?" Zoe asked Charlotte, although it was quite obvious that he was rather clumsily attempting to flirt with Lindsay while Lindsay was attempting to convince him to let her through the triage doors even though, as neither staff, patient or relative, strictly speaking she had no right to be in the ED.

"Trying to work out the courage to ask her out, I think," Charlotte said, torn between intervening and saving Bart from what was sure to be a knock-down and the amusement of watching him attempt to engage with someone who was clearly out of his league.

"Anyone bother to tell him that anyone Jack had been bothered having any sort of relationship with for ten years is way out of his league?" Zoe asked. It wasn't an insult to Bart, it was just that as someone Jack was taken enough with to keep in his life for ten years – including, it turned out, the six years he had been at uni, peppered with the occasional return to Sydney – Lindsay was too worldly and sophisticated to be someone whose interest Bart could hold. Zoe had long ago learnt not to let Lindsay's professional nature as a children's librarian fool her; the woman was extremely bright with a deep hunger for learning, which actually put her above most of the doctors at All Saints, whatever their qualifications might say. And that certainly put her way out of Bart's league.

"Didn't have the heart," Charlotte admitted. "He's so... sheltered. He sees things so black-and-white."

Zoe nodded her agreement, one of the few things she agreed with Charlotte on. Bart could never be made to understand that, regardless of what society in general though, _Lindsay_ didn't see her qualifications as being beneath those of a doctor; in fact, she considered most doctors beneath her precisely for their lack of open-mindedness that came from someone who truly wanted knowledge simply for knowledge's sake. The result of that was he tended to look a little down at her while appreciating her looks, and was baffled by the fact she got on so well with Jack – so why not another doctor, if that was her thing?

Plus, Zoe though, Lindsay was seven years older than him, although she certainly didn't look it. She wondered if that would make him back off; Bart didn't seem the type to be comfortable with an older woman.

She gave them another few seconds before she went over to let Lindsay in. "What are you doing here?" she asked warmly. Lindsay was quite a steadying influence on Jack, for all their history, and Zoe wondered how much of it was because they had first met just as Patrick had lost interest in him. Would Jack have gone in another direction if he hadn't had someone so passionate about reading and learning for him to look up to?

"I had a conference that finished early and wondered if Jack wanted to go for a drink," she said.

Zoe's brain ticked over. It was a nasty thing to do, she knew, but she justified it telling herself that Rachel was going to have to deal with Lindsay sooner or later. "I've got a better idea," she said. "It's a Friday night tradition that we go to Cougars, and Jack usually joins us – why don't you come along? He spends enough time with your colleagues that you may as well get to know his."

Lindsay laughed at that. "I think I trained him a little too well to appreciate the value of public libraries," she said. "What the hell, it sounds good. Is there somewhere I can get changed?"

Zoe eyed Lindsay's conservative outfit; a black-and-grey striped top – or was it a dress – over tailored pants and sensible black shoes. Not her uniform, but definitely something you might wear to a librarian's conference. "I was wondering if you were going to go out in that," she said.

Lindsay laughed again. "C'mon, Zoe, _how_ long have you know me now? And in all that time, _when_ have you known me to go out looking like this when it wasn't for work?"

Zoe directed Lindsay to the staff toilets. "You know her well?" Bart asked hopefully.

"I guess. Jack's known her since he was fifteen, so you can't really be friends with him without getting to know her."

"So, she's an old friend – like Jane?" Bart asked, because everyone who knew either of them knew that, despite the gossip, there had never been anything between Jack and Jane other that friendship.

"Kind of," Zoe said, thinking about a comment she had made to Jack months ago – before Sean had died, which made it feel like it had been years ago – about Jack only being familiar with old movies and old movies stars. "Except if Jane is his Grace Kelly, then Lindsay is his Clara Bow."

"Who?" Bart asked.

* * *

"Oh, hello, are you visiting someone?" Rachel asked the stunning redhead who was engrossed in a book. Her lithe figure was clad in skin-tight jeans and a corset-style top. Rachel wouldn't have believed the woman was over thirty if she had flashed her driver's licence.

"Waiting for Doctor Quade to finish," Lindsay said, glancing up at Rachel and, not recognising her, going back to her book. "Doctor Gallagher invited me out to drinks with the staff. Said he spends enough time with my colleagues that I should do the same for his."

Rachel wondered exactly what kind of company this woman kept for colleagues – models? "Do you know Jack well?" she asked politely, feeling that same twinge of jealousy that she had to know that he was spending the evening with Gabrielle.

"Since he was fifteen," she said. "I'm Lindsay, by the way," she introduced herself, and held out her hand. She had beautifully manicured fingers – there was no way Rachel could grow them that long and still work as a nurse.

Rachel recognised the name. "Lindsay the librarian?" she asked.

"That would be me," Lindsay said cheerfully. "God, you wouldn't believe how many times I've heard _that_ over the years. Everyone thinks they're being original. That is, when they're not asking me if my last name is Lohan. I'm the original redheaded Lindsay, she's the imposter."

Lindsay spoke these words with such a twinkle in her eye that Rachel could immediately see why Jack would have such a long history with such an easy-going woman. She wondered why Lindsay hadn't recognised her name; had Jack not mentioned her at all? Surely if he had, Lindsay would twig as to an ED nurse named Rachel? Really, it was one thing to know he wasn't telling any of their colleagues about them, but Lindsay was his friends from outside the hospital, surely he could have mentioned her?

Just then, Jack walked through the door. "Hey there," he said cheerfully, not immediately registering that Rachel was there. "Zoe said you were here. Said Bart was trying to flirt with you, too."

"Oh, was that what he was doing?" Lindsay asked innocently.

It was then Jack noticed Rachel was there, and felt a little uncomfortable. In different circumstances, he would have put his arm around her and introduced them properly to one another as his girlfriend. But this was the hospital, the ED tea-room as a matter of fact, and he didn't want to be drawing attention to his burgeoning relationship with Rachel so close to home. "Lindsay pretends she doesn't know when someone's flirting with her and uses the excuse that she works with children for a living so she can't be expected to understand the complexities of adult behaviour," he said to her.

"Yeah, well, I remember a time when you pretended not to know what statutory rape was," Lindsay retorted good-naturedly, completely unaware of Jack's relationship with Rachel, or she wouldn't have said something so scandalous.

"That's so not fair, I really didn't know," Jack said indignantly.

"What, and you kept _not knowing_ after I explained half a dozen times?" she teased. Jack poked his tongue out at her. "Mature, as always," she said.

Zoe had watched Jack enter the tea-room, knowing Rachel was already there, and had given the three a few minutes for Jack and Lindsay's dynamic to come into play. They were a rare combination, two people who were friends first and occasionally lovers second, completely at ease with one another with no qualms about exchanging easy banter that was often sexual in nature. It had confused many a person as to whether they were together or not, Zoe included at one point, and she had no doubt that it would make Rachel uncomfortable. She felt a twinge of guilt a setting the situation up, but reminded herself that Rachel would have to deal with Lindsay and the part she played in Jack's life soon enough – may as well throw her into the deep end and see if she could swim.

She walked into the tea-room. "I see you found her," she said good-naturedly, taking note of the uncomfortable expression on Rachel's face. She eyed Lindsay's outfit. "Now _that_ is more your style," she said approvingly, half-wishing she could get away with such an outfit. She was the same age as Lindsay but no-one would have picked it. She herself hadn't when she had first met the woman. "Don't you ever get worried that you're going to get caught out? Children's librarian by day, sexpot by night?"

"I'm _very_ discreet," Lindsay said, throwing a suggestive look in Jack's direction, and neither Zoe nor Rachel was left in any doubt that part of her discretion lay in the fact that most of the stuff she got up to that her job wouldn't approve of involved Jack, and Jack would protect her need for discretion in her professional life to the grave.

Rachel quietly seethed.

Lindsay was, of course, a hit. Intelligent, witty and generally very pleasant to be around – unless someone was _really_ asking for it, and then she could demonstrate quite a bitchy wit – everyone took to her quickly. "Lindsay, I've got to ask. Is that your real hair colour?" Cate asked. Even if it was, it suited her; such a vibrant colour to go along with a vibrant personality.

"No, I just thought it would be a hoot to have everyone ask me if my last name was Lohan," she drawled. Her hair was out now, whereas before it had been tied up, and many a man who had no connection to the table where the ED staff – and Jack – were sitting were trying to engineer ways to ingratiate themselves with the group.

"It's been that colour since I met her," Jack said. "So either she's done a damn good job of keep it consistent or it's real."

"Which begs the question – how _did_ you meet?" Erica asked. Lindsay had had a few, and it was clear there was an easygoing camaraderie between the two, so maybe now they could finally get some answers about Jack's life before he had come to All Saints.

"He used to go to the library I did my prac at – actually, the one I'm working at now. I never saw someone so devoted to reading, including myself. Guy had to catch two busses and a train to get to South Duncraig from where he was."

"South Duncraig? Really? That's my local," Bart said, pleased to have something in common with her.

"Really?" Lindsay said with saccharine sweetness that everyone but Bart knew would end badly. "Then how come I've never seen you before?"

There were a few smirks at that from people who knew Bart ought to know better than try and flirt with someone like Lindsay. "I – I – always had the books I needed," he said, flustered.

"Let me guess, your parents bought you every textbook you needed and the last piece of fiction you read was on the English Literature syllabus?" she asked cuttingly.

"Lindsay," Jack said warningly. He privately shared her opinion but he had to work with Bart and therefor would appreciate Lindsay not using him as the butt of her jokes.

"Sorry," Lindsay said, almost sounding sincere when Jack knew perfectly well that she wasn't. "I'm just so sick of parents who don't encourage their kids to read for pleasure. I've found if they haven't discovered it by the time they're about ten, they never do." She smiled winningly, and Bart had immediately forgotten any slight. "Anyway, I met Jack on prac when he was fifteen. He'd been catching busses across Sydney 'cos South Duncraig is one of the biggest libraries in the city and the other librarians were all, like, over-forty and the head librarian had this idea that maybe he would open up to me better than they would to him – 'cos there's _such_ a close gap between fifteen and twenty, see," she said with a cheeky smile. Certainly, _she_ had been insulted when the woman had said she and Jack had their age in common, and at first, she had been a little put off by a boy who was clearly highly intelligent and very knowledgeable but with limited social skills. "Honestly? I thought he had Aspergers – and it wasn't very well known at the time," Lindsay told her captive audience. "He was equal parts brilliant and socially awkward. And naturally he hit on me within a week and pretended not to know what statutory rape was."

"Jack, aggressively pursue someone inappropriately older?" Charlotte murmured drily. "Never." Jack poked his tongue out at her, which surprised Charlotte. He was still sensitive about his relationship with Terri, but apparently he had no problem with joking about his relationship with Lindsay. He must feel very comfortable around her. No wonder Deanna hadn't liked her; it would take a very mature, very secure woman to feel comfortable with his relationship with Lindsay.

Rachel, meanwhile, was feeling increasingly uncomfortable by Lindsay's revelations about Jack – and the fact Jack was so comfortable with Lindsay that he didn't seem to mind. She had known him for twelve years, whereas Rachel couldn't even boast twelve _weeks_. And she had no idea who Rachel was to him. So what exactly _did_ she meant to him that he hadn't told his longest friend about her?

Lindsay waited until the laughter had died down before continuing. "But he was sweet and eager to learn and you don't see that in many people, at least not to that degree. Hell, I've met plenty of his AUMEL mates and you'd think that would be the one place you'd find people eager to learn, right? But so many people learn what they need to in order to get to where they want to go and no more. But Jack read everything he could get his hands on for the sake of learning, and we became friends."

"So, uh, Jack, Lindsay was your – " Dan started to ask.

"Shut up, Dan," Jack said, feeling himself start to blush a little. Suddenly he was aware of how uncomfortable Rachel looked and he wished Lindsay would shut up. He had never minded her talking about their history before – hell, part of him enjoyed the way he would attract envy for the history he had shared with such a gorgeous, sexy older woman – but right now, he was aware that it was kind of tacky.

Dan didn't bother to pursue the question; it was obvious from Jack's reaction that the answer was _yes_. "So how come you guys never got together?" he asked Lindsay. "For real, I mean. Seems like you'd make a pretty dynamic couple."

_Don't answer, don't answer, don't answer_, Jack begged Lindsay silently. "He got his scholarship to AUMEL pretty soon after that," Lindsay said. "And neither of us is the long-distant relationship type." There were a few snickers at that; no way could Jack be faithful to someone who was living too far away for him t get laid frequently. "And then when he moved back to Sydney permanently, I got this sense that he was carrying a torch for someone else. It wasn't until I met Gabrielle that it all made sense."

"Lin, I think I should take you home," Jack said. Lindsay started to protest, but then she saw the look in Jack's eyes that made her decide it was best to go along with what he wanted...

... "I had no idea they went that far back," Dan said once they were gone. He looked directly at Zoe, asking a silent question.

"I picked up a few things," she said. "I knew he met her on prac." She felt a twinge of guilt when she saw how miserable Rachel looked. It was hard to tell herself that she was doing the girl a favour in the long-run when she looked so miserable _right now_.

"He tends not to introduce her to people," Charlotte put in. "She couldn't stand Deanna and needled her at every opportunity so now he doesn't introduce her to people, particularly women, unless he knows nothing's ever going to happen. So pretty much me, Erica, Zoe, Rebecca and Jane. And Gabrielle, but I think that was more because he wanted her to guide Ben. I know if _I_ had a convoluted relationship like he does with Gabrielle and a gorgeous ex like Lindsay, _I_ wouldn't be introducing them unless I had to."

There was laughter at the truth of it, and Rachel squirmed in her seat, hating the gorgeous, intelligent redhead who was so in sync with Jack, and hating Jack for not telling her about their relationship...

... "That nurse, Rachel? Totally has a crush on you," Lindsay said on the drive home. "She was _so_ jealous when I was talking about us."

Jack clenched his jaw. Why did Lindsay have to show up? Why did Zoe have to invite her to Cougars with them? He wondered if Zoe had done it intentionally. "I've been seeing her for a few weeks," he admitted.

Lindsay's eyes went wide with surprise, and then embarrassment at the things she had said in the younger woman's presence. "_Shit_, Jack, why didn't you say something?" she asked him accusingly. "I would never have said anything if I had known."

"Yeah, I like to think you're tactful enough not to tell everyone about how long we've been sleeping together," Jack said curtly. "We've been keeping it quiet until we know where we stand with one another, and what was I supposed to do when you were sitting there blathering about how long we go back? Blurt out to stop talking about our relationship in front of my new girlfriend?"

"Sorry," Lindsay said in a small voice, recalling remorsefully how jealous and uncomfortable Rachel had been. She had chalked it up to an infatuated woman's jealousy, when actually it had been a girlfriend's discomfort.

"You weren't to know. It was just really lousy timing. And I think Zoe had something to do with it. She doesn't think Rachel and I seeing each other is a good idea." And Jack explained about Zoe's comments to him a few days prior. "Look, do you think maybe you could meet her properly, if she wants to?"

"Of course. What about Ben and Gabrielle? Do they know about it?" Lindsay asked, so she didn't blurt out something she shouldn't to them.

Jack shook his head. "You know how Ben's got his heart set on us getting back together," he said. "He's going to be devastated to find out that I'm seeing someone else. I don't want to bring that on myself until I know Rachel's worth doing it."

Privately, Lindsay thought that therein lay Jack's problem – Ben was always going to be more important than anyone he was seeing, and by extension, so was Gabrielle. That, and he had held a torch for Gabrielle for seven years, only getting over her – or claiming that he had, Lindsay had her doubts – in the last few months. There hadn't been anything striking about Rachel that had made Lindsay think she could compete with the connection he had with Gabrielle.

Jack dropped Lindsay home. "I'll let you know what's happening with Rachel and I," he said. "Right now I'm going to try and patch things up with her."

He made his way to Rachel's, circling the block a few times until he could see her car in the driveway. He parked and let himself into her apartment. "Babe?" he asked. "Rachel?"

"Go away," she said sulkily from the small dining/entertaining area. "I don't want to see you."

He ignored her command and walked into the room where she was. "I had no idea Lindsay was coming by, and I certainly didn't invite her to Cougars," he said.

"Yeah? And _she_ had no idea who _I_ was," Rachel countered. "Jesus, Jack, I _get_ that we can't tell people at the hospital, even though I want to shout it from the rooftops – by she's not _from_ the hospital. Do you have _any_ idea how _humiliating_ it was to listen to her talk about your – past – like that?" Not to mention the details Charlotte had added after they had gone, like the fact Deanna had detested her and Lindsay had made it her mission to needle Deanna with her bitchy, sarcastic wit at every opportunity.

"I can imagine. I'm sorry," he said helplessly, feeling like he was drowning in the face of Rachel's very real and very understandable embarrassment. "For what it's worth, she would never have said it if she'd known who you were."

"Yeah, that's exactly it," Rachel said. "She _didn't_ know who you were. I've told all my friends who don't have a connection to All Saints, hey, I'm seeing this terrific guy – and you can't even be bothered telling one of the few people you _don't_ know through the hospital."

"She knows now," Jack said in a small voice, his usually strong delivery weakened in the face of Rachel's anger, unhappiness and humiliation. "She wants to meet you properly."

"Oh, because that is _just_ my idea of a good time, hanging out with _another_ of your exes," Rachel said sarcastically.

"She's not actually an ex, we never dated," Jack said pettily.

"Thanks, that makes me feel _so_ much better," Rachel said with the same sarcasm.

"Look, I said I was sorry, OK!" Jack said defensively. "Rachel... I'm not good at this. Dating, I mean. I _don't know_ how much I'm supposed to tell you about my – exes – and how much I'm supposed to tell _them_ about _you_. I end up telling Zoe everything 'cos I know she can't go blabbing to anyone else." He sat down and took her hands in his. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he said contritely. "It's been a long time since I felt like this about someone and I _don't know_ what I'm supposed to do."

"A little respect would be nice," she said curtly.

"I do respect you," he insisted. "If I didn't then I wouldn't give a crap if people knew about us. I'd let people say what they wanted about you." He could see that she was softening, weather it was from his words or his gentle tone. "Look," he said softly, "I help Lindsay with her storytimes sometimes, why don't you come with me next time and see what I do there?"

"I'd like that," Rachel said. It wasn't quite going public at the hospital, but at least he was sharing part of his life with her.

"And how about we go out to dinner on Saturday night?" he suggested, mentally going through the nice restaurants he knew that were a fair way away where no-one was likely to recognise them.

"It's my parent's thirty-year-anniversary," Rachel said, wishing that her parents had chosen any weekend but that one to marry thirty years ago. "Would – would you like to come?"

If she was inviting him, that meant she wasn't ashamed of her family, which meant the Sims marriage had to be a happy, functional one. "Sure," he said. "Just don't ask me to return the favour. My dad's a jerk."

"I heard from Charlotte," Rachel said. If Ned Quade had seen nothing wrong with hitting on a woman in her late-thirties who was carrying his grandchild, then she would be quite content to never meet the man.

* * *

"You got in pretty early," Gabrielle commented the next morning – by 'early', she meant two in the morning.

"Lindsay joined us for drinks last night and had a few too many, I drove her home," Jack half-lied, because he _had_ taken Lindsay home... he had just gone to Rachel's after and patched things up with her before having sex with her and leaving later than he would have liked, but he couldn't exactly be strict about enforcing no no-staying-over rule when he had humiliated her by not telling Lindsay about them.

"Oh," Gabrielle said. She couldn't help but wonder if he was seeing her again. It would explain why he was out so many nights. And he and Lindsay had always had a terrific camaraderie. Really, it shouldn't have surprised her that eventually they would pick things up where they had left off.

She knew she had no right to ask anything of him. He had made it clear that if she was willing to give him the relationship from him, then they had nothing to offer each other... and she had never been able to swallow her pride – not to mention her stubborn memories of his infidelity – and give him what he wanted... and what a large part of her wanted, too. If Jack wanted to date someone else, or just sleep with him, then that was entirely his prerogative and she didn't have the right to expect fidelity of him, or anything of him other than being a devoted dad – which he was.

So why did it hurt so much to know that he was sleeping with Lindsay again?

* * *

"That was a mean trick you played," Lindsay said over coffee with Zoe a few days later. "Clever, but mean."

"You can talk," Zoe retorted good-naturedly. "I heard you managed to put Deanna Richardson on edge." Zoe had briefly encountered the ambitious nurse years ago, way before she had the age and experience to qualify her for a NUM's position, but even then, she had set Zoe on edge. There had been something cold, hard and ambitious about her, and she hadn't been surprised to hear she had caused havoc at All Saints. She _had_ been surprised to hear that she and Jack had been involved, though; she could never see Jack involved with such a cold creature. "And anyway, Rachel's got to come to terms with the fact that Jack had quite a history with women.. She's going to have to accept how much you and Gabrielle mean to him – not to mention me and Jane."

"It was still a mean way to go about it," Lindsay said. She was torn between admiring Zoe's cleverness in manipulating the situation into being and being annoyed that Zoe had manipulated _her_ into unwittingly humiliating a good friend's girlfriend. Hell, it could be fun when you knew you were doing it and the woman had it coming, like Deanna, but the way she had embarrassed Rachel made Lindsay feel a little sleazy.

"I know," Zoe admitted. "To be honest, I don't think she's right for him."

Which was exactly what Lindsay had been thinking – mean trick or not. "How do you mean?" she asked cautiously, fishing for information.

"Jack's had a pretty rough childhood," Zoe said. "I can't actually talk about it because I only know about it because I was his doctor for a period when he was at AUMEL. And Rachel's sweet but she's so sheltered. I don't think she has what it takes to support him when he gets in one of his black moods. And seeing him with Gabrielle, I know that _she_ can."

"I know he was abused," Lindsay said casually, as if she were saying nothing more interesting than she knew that he was a Pisces.

Zoe nearly spat out her coffee. "I'm sorry?" she asked incredulously. "I thought I was the first person he told."

"You probably were. But it was obvious from his behaviour when I first met him that he'd been abused. He was so skittish, and hated being touched. Once he almost hit be, purely on reflex, when I came up behind him and touch his shoulder. It was actually quite sad, because on the one hand you could see that he craved affection and being loved, and on the other he flinched if I made too sudden a movement in his direction."

Zoe leaned back against her chair. "Wow," she said. "I had no idea." She remembered how he had fought against his restraints when he had been hospitalised and had always thought of it as a reaction to his syphilis bringing back memories of his abuse. While it made perfect sense, it had never occurred to her that his reaction had actually been a regression to prior behaviour. "How did he get through it?" she asked.

"A lot of patience," Lindsay said. "If he'd been any less sweet or eager to learn and eager to please, I wouldn't have bothered." Zoe nodded, understanding now just how integral Lindsay's presence in Jack's life had made the difference between him going on to be as functional as he was – and him being someone like Travis Knight. Before Lindsay, he'd had no practical understanding that touch could be anything _but_ painful and humiliating; Lindsay had patiently eased him into the practical experience. "But I do know what you mean about Rachel. She seems sweet enough but you're right – I don't think she'll be able to support him when he's in a dark mood. Or maybe it's just the fact that I don't think he's ever gotten over Gabrielle, no matter what he says."

"So... what do we do now?" Zoe asked, longing for some advice from the woman who had known Jack longer than anyone else – at least anyone that he still cared to associate with.

Lindsay laughed at that. "_We_?" she mimicked. "Just how little do you know Jack that you think _we_ can do anything about it? The boy's one of the most stubborn people I know. If he wants to believe this Rachel girl's right for him, then nothing is going to dissuade him of that until this thing runs its natural course... to the bitter end, if need be."

* * *

Gabrielle was doing the laundry when she came across one of Jack's shirts that reeked of a sweet, flowery deodorant – definitely not something Jack would wear. Oddly enough, she figured Lindsay would wear something muskier, maybe Chanel Number Five, made famous by sex symbol Marilyn Monroe. But then, Jack would know Lindsay's tastes far more than she would.

And anyway, the point was that Jack's shirt reeked of a woman's deodorant, or perfume, or something like that. Proof that he was seeing someone – Lindsay, she figured. And for some reason or another, he had chosen to keep it from her – probably, she thought ruefully, for the way she had (somewhat unreasonable, she realised now) acted when she had found out he had slept with her before.

She felt her throat tighten to think of them together. She knew it shouldn't surprise her, knew she had no right to feel so betrayed... but she did.

Ben, thankgod, was at a friend's house, and Jack wouldn't be home from work for hours – that was, if he didn't go to see Lindsay afterwards. She made her way to the living room and poured herself a generous glass of wine, sinking down into the couch to let it fuzz her brain.

Jack was seeing Lindsay. _Jack was seeing Lindsay_. He had threatened to do just that when she had told him she didn't want a relationship with him – at least not the kind _he_ wanted – but he hadn't, and he had been extremely upset at the time. And yet now – now he was.

She had had the opportunity to have a proper relationship with him and she had pushed it away, and now she had missed her chance. She hadn't realised she _wanted_ to be in a relationship with Jack until he was seeing someone else. She had figured she could hold him at arm's length until she felt comfortable enough to step-by-step ease into a proper relationship. She had thought she had all the time in the world, and now time had run out because she was too proud to admit she wanted to be with him, too stubborn to negotiate with her.

She thought slowly, the wine clouding her brain but making her relax and think in a way she couldn't have without it. Lindsay herself had said that she could never see her and Jack in a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship because of his feelings for Gabrielle, and enough of the conversation that night at Cougars – the night they must have restarted their sexual relationship – had gotten back to her to know that she _still_ felt that way. So they were in a sexual relationship, but not a romantic one.

That meant there was still time.

She closed her eyes and her brain ticked over. It was Ben's birthday in just under a month, and he was talking excitedly about having a big party with all his new friends from White's. It was heart-warming, how enthusiastic he was about it. Hell, _The Scene_ had offered to pay for it in return for photos, which Gabrielle had already turned down flat – like hell she was giving a magazine carte blanche to take pictures of her son for the price of a children's birthday party. Not to mention some of the more over-protective parents would pitch a fit about the media, even a social magazine, being there (though some, she knew, would _love _the idea. But now she had an idea... what better time to reconcile with Jack at their son's birthday?

Smiling, she jumped up and retrieved a pen and pad of paper from the kitchen drawer and started making plans.

* * *

"Hey, it's Ben's seventh birthday in two weeks on Sunday," Jack said to Rachel, idly tracing random patterns (OK, they were complex maths equations that he'd been attempting to teach Ben) across her bare back. "Gabrielle's gone all-out planning a party – I'm waiting for my credit-card company to call and make sure that it is actually me authorising all these payments. Everyone who's got the day off is coming." By 'everyone', he meant everyone he was friends with at the hospital, plus Lindsay, who Gabrielle had seemed reluctant to invite but Ben had insisted on it. "You want to come?"

"You want me to come to your son's birthday? At your house? The son whose greatest wish is for you and his mum to get back together?" Rachel asked a little incredulously. Gabrielle had invited her, of course, although Rachel knew it was largely a matter of politeness – she had invited everyone in the ED.

"Well, when you put it like _that_," Jack said – it didn't exactly sound like the smartest plan in the world. "I would like you to meet him, and it will be easier if the first time is in a big social situation like this. He's pretty cluey – if I introduce you one-on-one, he'll want to know what's so special about you." He sounded apologetic and proud at the same time. "But this way you're just another face in the crowd."

"Another face in the crowd? Thanks a lot, Jack."

"You know that's not what I mean. I want to introduce you to him as my friend first. The way I see it, he'd be far less upset if I was involved with Jane or Lindsay than someone he's never heard of before."

"Jack, I'm never going to be up there with Jane or Lindsay in his affections. They're... freaking child-whisperers." Rachel had attended one of the storytimes that Jack did with Lindsay, and she had been truly impressed with how gifted both of them were with children. "And they've known Ben almost as long as you have."

"Which is only a year," Jack countered. "A year from now and you could be the same."

"Really?" Rachel asked, touched by the sentiment, even if it was just something he had said in passing.

"Really what?"

"That I could be something to Ben a year from now. That _you and I_ could be something a year from now."

"I don't see why not," Jack said idly. He couldn't say he'd really thought about it, but then he hadn't thought about them _not_ being together a month down the track, either, so if it made Rachel happy...

They didn't talk much about the future – they had been seeing each other for less than two months and while Rachel was eager to cement things between them, she didn't want to push him. Referring, even in a vague sense, to them being together in a year's time was the most he had ever committed, and she treasured it. "OK," she agreed, even though she had her doubts. "Is there anything I can get him for a present?"

"Gift vouchers to Dymocks or Games World," Jack said. "Hardly anyone knows to get him something that's appropriate to his intellect so it's easier just to let him choose his own stuff." Bored with the discussion, Jack ran his fingers down her back, squeezing her ass and thigh and slipping his fingers inside her. Rachel obligingly spread her legs for him and murmured her appreciation. He touched her for a few minutes until she was ready for him and he reached for a condom.

"Jack," she said, feeling a little resentful because Jack seemed to have no intention of trusting her with birth control – or his sexual health. "Do you have to?"

"Yes," he grunted, slipping the condom on, feeling a little resentful because she had no grasp of just how important it was to him. She was such a sweet, naive girl in that regard; she had no grasp on how traumatic having syphilis and Charlotte's miscarriage had been and why he was hyper-vigilant because of it.

"It's been almost two months," she reminded him. "I'll get those tests done if you want. I wish you'd trust me."

"Why don't you just lie back and enjoy yourself," Jack said in a deceptively casual tone that Rachel had learned to recognise as code for _I don't want to talk about it so why don't you shut up and enjoy it._ So she shut up and moaned with pleasure as he entered her. She automatically buried her head in the pillow, and he tapped her shoulder to indicate her to turn her head to the side; he liked hearing the moan.

"Jack," she cried out as he started pumping her. "Oh, God, Jack!" It was on the tip of her tongue to cry out that she loved him. But she wasn't sure that she did and she knew he wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. She only knew that she was crazy about him and had told him that and that she didn't know exactly how he felt about her.

* * *

"Ben, this is my friend Rachel. Rachel, this is my son Ben," Jack introduced the two on Ben's birthday.

"Hi," Rachel said shyly. God, but Ben looked exactly like Jack; she had been told that, and seen photos of the boy, but it was entirely different to seeing his smile and the way his eyes sparkled aqua with happiness. "I got you a present," she said, withdrawing a Dymocks voucher. "Your dad says you like to read."

Ben took the couch to be added with a pile of vouchers to bookstores and game stores – just what he had wanted. Otherwise, when people heard he liked books and games, they got him things for _babies_. "Do you like _Narnia_?" he asked.

Rachel had never read a fantasy book in her life, although she had seen some of the more popular movies. "I really like Liam Neeson, I think he's a terrific actor," was all she could think to say. Ben gave her a funny look, then shared a conspiring one with Jack, who suggested he go and interact with his friends. "What did I do?" she asked.

"I made a point not to tell him who Liam Neeson is," Jack said. "He'll be wanting to watch _Schindler's List_ if he does. He's mature for his age, but not _that_ mature."

Rachel cringed. "I can't do anything right," she said. "You said he had the intelligent of an early teenager."

"Early teenager still doesn't qualify for a MA-rated movie," Jack said mildly. He wasn't the least bit put-out – Rachel was trying, and better for her to assume he was older in intellect than younger, which always pissed Ben off royally – but he knew Rachel was taking it personally. "Look, it's hard to know how to deal with him when you first meet him," he admitted. "He's seven years old with the intelligence of someone somewhere between eleven and thirteen."

"Jane and Lindsay did it," she said, feeling a little churlish.

"Jane and Lindsay are, by your own words, child-whisperers," Jack reminded her. "You can't be expected to be as good with him as they were straight away. Besides," he added, discretely touching her arm, "neither of them have ever made me feel the way you do." Rachel blushed, thinking about the sexual history Jack shared with Lindsay, and the intellectual and emotional history he shared with both her and Jane. That he'd never had what he had with her with either of them gave her a rush.

"You OK? You seem a little... aloof," Lindsay said as tactfully to Gabrielle. Actually, the younger woman had seemed quite _aloof_ for a while now. She had thought she and Gabrielle were over whatever insecurities Gabrielle felt over her long history with Jack, but it appeared not.

"Fine," Gabrielle said shortly. She would never feel comfortable around Lindsay... at least not until she was secure in her relationship with Jack and the fact he and Lindsay were ancient history. "I'm glad you could come," she said with cool politeness. "You mean a lot to Ben."

Lindsay left Gabrielle to whatever thoughts were going through her head. She wondered if the younger woman had cottoned onto the fact that Jack was seeing someone else. It would certainly explain her jumpiness.

"Lindsay!" Ben called, and ran and jumped into Lindsay's arms. Lindsay didn't have the heart to tell him that he was getting too heavy for her. If she was ever to have a child – and she realised at over-thirty the odds weren't on her side, something of an irony for a children's librarian – she would want one like Ben, if you could choose your kids. But then, she thought ruefully, _every_ would-be parent wanted a child like Ben. "The book looks real cool." Lindsay was one of the few people who could be trusted to choose a book for Ben; she had gotten him the _Percy Jackson_ series. Not as good as _Harry Potter_, but good enough for as voracious a read as Ben was. If Jack and Gabrielle weren't such over-protective parents, she would give him an even better present; detailed instructions as to how to get from his house to South Duncraig. After all, if _Jack_ had managed the trip from further away when he had been Ben's age, then why couldn't Ben?

"Hey," she said. "I noticed you were talking to Rachel Sims before. What do you think of her?"

Ben made a face. "I asked her about _Narnia_ and she said something about Liam Someone."

Lindsay laughed. "Liam Neeson," she said. "He's an actor. He hasn't done much – " that was a bald-faced lie, but Jack would kill her if she was responsible for Ben finding out about _Schindler's List_ at his age – "but he was the voice of Aslan."

"If he hasn't done much then how come Rachel thinks he's a terrific actor?" Ben asked.

Damn Ben and his insightfulness. "Beats me," she said, deciding that if Rachel had made a slip-up like that – and if it hadn't occurred to Jack to tell Rachel not to refer to Neeson since _Narnia_ was his favourite movie – then that was her problem. "What other presents did you get?"

"Gift vouchers, mostly," Ben said. "That Rachel got me a voucher to Dymocks. I like Dymocks."

Lindsay laughed at that, and Ben wanted to know what she was laughing at. "Most parents aren't lucky enough to have a kid who likes Dymocks." She thought of Bart, who was still trying to flirt with her. She could never make him understand that education wasn't the same as learning, and that, in her opinion, the desire to learn was one of the sexiest qualities a man could possess.

They brought out the cake. Gabrielle and Jack stood beside each other while Ben blew out the candles. "I'd like to thank you all for coming," Gabrielle said. "It means a lot to the three of us to see so many of you make the effort to make it such a special day for Ben. And I thought I would make it an even more special day for him but letting you all know that Jack and I are getting back together."

It was news to Jack; it was also news to Rachel, and Zoe, and Lindsay. But before Jack had the time to properly respond, Gabrielle had kissed him, and he kiss was so familiar, her touch so quick to remind him of when he had been nineteen and in love for the first time that for a few seconds, he found himself kissing to back, to wild applause (and wolf-whistles from the less classy of the guests). Then reality kicked in and he realised he was kissing an ex _in front of his girlfriend_, and he pulled away. Not wanting to put Gabrielle on the spot and embarrass her – although vaguely aware that he had already done just that to Rachel – he restrained from saying something that would let people know there and then that not only had he had no idea that Gabrielle had been contemplating their reconciliation, but he actually wanted no part of it on account that he was actually dating her subordinate. "I think this is something that needs to be done behind closed doors," he said flippantly, to more applause.

Gabrielle knew immediately that something was wrong. Jack wouldn't have pulled away so quickly had he wanted a reconciliation. Was he more involved with Lindsay than she had thought?

But when she saw the look on Rachel's face – sweet, competent, unthreatening Rachel Sims – she realised that it hadn't been Lindsay he had been seeing.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

_Hey guy! Thanks for reading! This is actually the last finished chapter – I've somewhat lost interest in the show, though I'll finish it eventually._

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Gabrielle demanded of Jack later that evening when everyone had gone home and they were hashing it out over her kissing him and his relationship with Rachel.

"I didn't think that it was any of your business," Jack answered.

"None of my _business_?" Gabrielle asked incredulously. "We _live_ together, Jack."

"As a practical arrangement," he reminded her. "We're housemates. I have no obligation to tell a _housemate_ if I'm seeing someone."

"I'm also the mother of your son, Jack, you're _only child_."

Jack's eyes flashed; while she hadn't meant to say it in quite that tone, he recognised it immediately. It was the one she had once used to remind him that legally she had more rights than he did. OK, so those rights were somewhat scaled back now that he was legally recognised as Ben's father, but she still had more rights if she chose to make an issue out of it. "And given we broke up over seven years ago, that doesn't give me any obligation to tell you, as my ex, that I've been seeing someone for a few weeks." Actually, it was more like a few months, Jack was aware – but Gabrielle didn't know that and he knew deep down that a few months was a long time to keep something like that from her, given they lived together.

Gabrielle knew there was something wrong with Jack's logic, but she couldn't figure out what. And she knew she was far less upset then if it _had_ been Lindsay that he was seeing – Lindsay was only on the peripheral, she didn't see Lindsay every day like she saw Rachel. All this time, all this time she had thought Rachel was some nothing other than a bloody good nurse – it turned out she was involved with Jack. Jack, who she had thought wanted a reconciliation.

Well, _wanted_ was certainly the right word. As in, past tense. As in, didn't want anymore. _A few weeks_, she thought dully. She had missed out by a _few weeks_. If only she had realised a little earlier – "Are you going out?" she asked him, noticing he was packing a small bag.

"I have to go placate my girlfriend," he said.

Gabrielle winced at the word _girlfriend_. If Rachel was his girlfriend, then what had he been doing, kissing her back? And she _knew_ he had kissed her back – even for just a second. "What do I tell Ben?" she asked.

"You should have thought of that before you sprung this reconciliation on me – on both of us," he said. He saw the look of distress on Gabrielle's face, and felt bad. It had been a stupid thing to do, but in all fairness, she had thought he was single. Damn, he wished he had just been upfront with her from the beginning. Whatever his reasons for not doing so had been – and he couldn't remember them now – they seemed pretty stupid in light of things. "Look, I'll talk to him about it... tomorrow," he promised. "But right now I need to be with Rachel." And before Gabrielle could argue with him and make him feel like even more of a shit, he left.

* * *

"Go away, Jack. And give me my key back."

Jack placed the key on the counter. "You can have it back if you want, but we need to talk," he said.

"Really? About what? You want to try and convince me that you _weren't_ kissing your ex in front of everyone?"

"Hey! She kissed me!" Jack said insistently.

"And _you_ kissed her _back_, Jack, I _saw_ you," Rachel shot back. "Besides, she never would have done it if she had known that we were together."

Jack squirmed at that; he knew Rachel was right. "I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I should have been upfront about it."

"Damn straight you should have been upfront with it. Jack, I was _humiliated_."

"It's not like anyone knew we were together," Jack pointed out. Even as he was saying the words, he knew how inappropriate they were.

Rachel glared at him. "And whose fault is that?" she asked. "Jack, we've been seeing each other for _two months_. Two months and I've been wanting to tell people about us and not have to go out to dinner across town in case someone sees us. I feel like you're ashamed of me."

"I am not. Babe – " he went to embrace her, and she pulled away.

"Don't touch me," she said in an angry voice, his eyes flashing fire. Jack had never seen her like that. She was usually so sweet and compliant.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said.

"Well, you did. Now get out."

"Rachel, I'm not leaving while you're so upset."

"Get out!" she yelled at him. He went to embrace her again, this time more forcefully, hugging her too tightly for her to push him away – or squirm out of his hold. He could feel her shaking with anger and hurt within his hold. She lashed out and pounded her fists against his back but he didn't let her go, bringing her head in against his chest until she ran out of anger and started crying. He led her over to the couch and drew her into his lap. The fight gone out of her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

"I hated seeing you with her," she sniffled after her crying had eased. "If it was anyone else – but everyone keeps saying how crazy you are about you, and it makes me want to _scream_. It makes me feel like she's everything to you, and I'm nothing."

"You know that's not true," he said soothingly.

"Yeah, and how the hell am I supposed to know that?" she asked. "You never stay over, you make it clear that Ben is a priority – and Gabrielle by extension. You don't trust me not to use a condom. I feel like I'm just this – one night stand that last two months."

"You are not – Rachel, if I'd wanted a one-night stand I wouldn't have chosen you. I told you that. You mean a lot to me."

"Not as much as she does."

Jack kissed the top of her head. How could he ever explain to her that Gabrielle meant a lot to him because of the history and son that they shared, but as far as a relationship went, that part of his life was over? "She doesn't mean anything to me romantically," he finally said. "Not the way you do. Look, I brought stuff to stay the night, if you want me to," he offered.

There was a long pause before she said, "That would be nice. But I'm not going to sleep with you," she added.

"I don't expect you to."

It was a strange feeling, letting himself falling asleep with her curled up against him, habit thinking that he should be getting home so he could be there for Ben in the morning. He woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of her crying. "Hey," he said. "Please don't cry. I hate it when girls cry." Especially when he was the cause of the tears.

"I can't help it," she said. "I keep thinking about her and you and how everyone says you're so perfect together and I feel – like – nothing."

He reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp so he could see her better. He eased her onto her back so he was looking down on her. "You're not nothing," he said, and kissed her. She had said that she wouldn't sleep with him and he wanted to respect that, but it was the only thing he could think of to do in that moment. She responded by kissing him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body awkwardly against his; he moved so he was directly on top of her to make the contact easier. He kissed her face and neck and she whimpered in response. She tugged on his t-shirt until it slipped down his shoulder and ran kisses down his neck and shoulder. She started applying pressure to his neck, knowing what she was doing, and he tensed up for a second because he really did mark easily, but tried to relax and let her go at it until it started hurt. "Ease up, sweetheart," he said. "You're hurting." But he let her keep going when she backed off on the pressure.

He brought one hand to the top of her pyjamas top, undoing the buttons slowly, running his fingers across her bare skin as he exposed it. Soon he had undone all the buttons and pushed the material to either side of her body. He lifted her up slightly so he could pull the material off her entirely so she was completely naked from the waist down. "Gorgeous," he said approvingly, running his hands the length of her naked upper body. She pulled at his t-shirt so it came up over his head and looped her arms under his, dragging her hands down his back the way he liked; he grunted and bucked against her. "Baby," he said. "Gorgeous. So special." He worked his way down her body, kissing and touching her until she was writhing under him, the feel of her body bucking under his a massive turn-on; the feel of the resistance of his body sending her even crazier.

He got to the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and pulled them down to join the top of the floor. He kissed her thighs and stroked her through the material of her underwear until she was crying out. He pulled down her underwear so she was completely naked and started going down on her until he had her thrashing around on the bed and he had to hold her down so he could do his job.

Afterwards, she lay on the bed, feeling very satisfied and very loved. He quickly discarded his tracksuit pants and boxers and crawled up the bed, positioning himself on top of her, nudging her thighs with his hand so she spread her legs for him. He pushed himself inside her, watching her face intently for any sign of reluctance. There was none, and he pushed himself right into her, thinking that he had been deluding himself that it was almost as good with a condom. The feel of her body against his was exhilarating. She was warm and wet around him and he could swear he found himself even more around for the feel of it. "Baby," he grunted, and went to grab her thigh to indicate he wanted her to wrap her legs around him, but she did it instinctively, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist with the perfect amount of pressure, drawing them up and down his back, the sensation driving him wild. He began pumping her, thrusting with a speed and force that made him wonder if he was hurting her, but she was moaning and grabbing at him in a way that suggested the opposite was true.

"Feeling better?" he asked a trifle smugly after it was over. He pulled her into his arms.

"Jack?" she asked him. "What's going to happen now? With the hospital, I mean."

"I hadn't thought about it," he admitted. "I just walked out. Look, no-one will blame you if you don't want to go back there."

"Jack, I'm not giving up a perfectly good job when I haven't done anything wrong," Rachel protested indignantly. "I just want to know that I have your support."

"Of course you have my support. You're my girlfriend."

"And she's your son's mother," Rachel countered. "And everyone thinks you're back together now. I don't want to get to work tomorrow and hear everyone talking about it."

"I don't see how you can avoid that," Jack admitted. "We've created enough talk in the last year that this is one more thing for people to talk about. But if you want I will personally inform anyone who talks about us that you and I are together. How's the sound?"

"I suppose," Rachel agreed tentatively, because she knew there wasn't much more that could be done. People would talk about Jack and Gabrielle – Jack was right, they had created enough talk over the past years to expect people _wouldn't_ talk now. "I don't like the idea of people thinking my boyfriend has gotten back with his ex. I don't like the idea of having to face her tomorrow."

Jack kissed her tenderly. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Gabby's not the type to hold grudges. Hell, I have her every reason to hate me, and I still managed to get her to forgive me – eventually," he admitted ruefully. "You haven't done anything wrong and she's not petty enough to take any – uh, disappointment – out on you when she knows I'm the one she ought to be pissed off at."

* * *

"Where's Rachel?" Gabrielle asked the next day. Jack hadn't been home by the time she had needed to leave for work, which made Gabrielle think that he had spent the night with her – and was still there.

"Called in sick," Zoe said, sensing where this was going.

"Did she say _why_?"

"No," Zoe said. "Although I think it has to do with Jack."

"Wait – you knew about them?" Gabrielle asked incredulously. "And you didn't think to _tell_ me?"

"He's my friend, Gabrielle."

"_I'm_ your friend!" she said indignantly.

"He's been my friend for longer, and he needs someone to confide in. How much longer do you think he would be doing that if I betrayed a confidence?" Zoe countered. "I'm sorry that you don't have the kind of honesty with him that you should, but that's not my fault."

"He should have told me," Gabrielle said stubbornly.

"Yes, he should have. But he's a free agent, he can see who he likes. You can't hold it against either of them for that."

Gabrielle knew she was right, although she felt bitterly jealous and resentful. "How long have they been seeing each other?" she asked. Jack had said a few weeks, but she was inclined not to believe him.

"About three months," Zoe said. "Shortly after she started here, I think."

Gabrielle felt her heart plummet to realise it had been that long; all this time they had been involved and she hadn't suspected a thing – at least, not until recently. For some reason, that was an even worse betrayal than the fact they were together in the first place. She had been falling for him for weeks, and she could have saved herself that had he just been honest with her from the beginning – had they _both_ been honest with her.

"What, I'm sorry, _Jack and Rachel_?" Charlotte asked incredulously. "Since when?"

"About three months," Zoe repeated.

"How did you know?" Charlotte asked, and Zoe explained briefly about seeing them together and confronting Jack about it. There didn't seem any point in keeping Jack's secrets now; do doubt Rachel was thoroughly hurt by seeing Gabrielle kiss Jack, and would be pushing Jack to go public. Charlotte looked extremely put out that she was hearing this from Zoe, and called Dan over. "Oi," she said. "Did you know anything about Jack and Rachel being together?"

Dan went wide-eyed with surprise. "Jack and Rachel? As in, _our_ Rachel? Rachel Simms?" he asked incredulously. Zoe nodded. "What the hell? No, I didn't know. We hardly speak anymore. I figured he shared everything with you and Jane," he said to Zoe. He called over to Erica and filled her in on the news. Needless to say, Erica hadn't heard anything either and it wasn't long before they were surreptitiously texting friends and colleagues to see if _they_ knew anything.

By the end of the day, it had gone straight through the hospital.

"Thanks for the lift," Rachel said the following day.

"That's fine. Let me know if anything happens, OK?" Jack said. Zoe had already given him a heads-up that the hospital was abuzz with the news that, rather than reconciling with Gabrielle like they had all thought, he had actually been seeing her subordinate for several months. He didn't begrudge Zoe spilling the news – something like that was bound to become hospital gossip soon enough – although he would have liked the luxury of managing the flow of gossip. He had already been on the receiving end of a barrage of questions from Dan, and he knew that meant that Dan had been sharing his theories with anyone who would listen. He was starting to think that maybe it had been a bad idea to have Rachel go back to work when he wasn't there to keep an eye on things. She was such a sweet, innocent girl who had probably never been gossiped about in her life and would therefor have no idea what she was in for.

But she had insisted she would be OK – that she had already thought of that and prepared herself – and he reluctantly let her go, not wanting to be too protective. He had some errands to run, anyway.

* * *

Rachel let herself into the ED, and was immediately aware of the curious looks she received. She had expected that, but it was one thing to expect it and another to experience it. And she wasn't quite prepared for Gabrielle's frosty reception, not after Jack had sworn black and blue that Gabrielle was far too mature to take out any resentments on her.

Well, Jack clearly didn't know her as much as he thought he did. Gabrielle rode her all day, giving her the worst jobs and snapping with her when she didn't complete them to Gabrielle's satisfaction – a far higher standard than she asked for Dan or Erica, and it didn't take Rachel long to be strongly resenting it, not when she knew it was because of her and Jack. Well, it wasn't her fault that Jack had decided to move on after she had rejected him so many times, and it wasn't long before she was calling Gabrielle on the way she had been riding her.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Gabrielle said coolly, although she knew _exactly_ what Rachel was talking about. She resented Rachel with barely-concealed bitterness, and she knew she was demonstrating it. If it wasn't for Rachel, maybe she and Jack would be together right now. If it wasn't for Rachel, maybe Jack would have spent the last two nights with _her_.

"Yeah, you do. You've been being a cow to me all day," Rachel countered with the kind of frank honesty that Gabrielle would normally have liked – if it wasn't coming from _her_.

"It's not my fault you can't do your job – and that you think it's perfectly acceptable to chuck a sickie to spend time with your boyfriend," Gabrielle said.

"Yeah? And it's not _mine_ that you turned Jack down so many times that he got fed up and moved on," Rachel countered. "I'm sorry you're in a bad mood about it, but it's not my fault you couldn't work out what you wanted until it was gone. You can't blame Jack for that and you certainly can't blame me."

Gabrielle could feel her stubborn, proud temper flare up and before she could stop herself, she said, "You can't hold Jack's interest for long. Look at the women in his life – Zoe, Jane, Lindsay – you think you can compete with that?"

"I can certainly compete with _you_," Rachel replied coolly. "You don't have anything to hold his interest apart from Ben and don't think that will hold him for long. He's already gotten sick of waiting for you. Face it, you're time is over and you've got no-one but yourself to blame."

Acting automatically, Gabrielle struck Rachel as hard as she could. The younger woman reeled back at both the shock that Gabrielle had struck her as well as the force of the blow.

"Gabrielle!" Zoe called from across the ED, wishing she hadn't assumed the two women could sort it out like the adults they were meant to be – or that Jack hadn't thought it would be an issue, the two of them working together. She rushed over to Rachel. "Are you OK?" she asked. It was obvious she wasn't; apart from the sheer humiliation of being hit by her supervisor in front of their colleagues, it was clear Gabrielle could pack a mean punch; Rachel's cheek was already starting to swell up.

She reached out to touch the cheek, and Rachel pulled away from her violently. "Leave me alone," she said, and rushed out of the ED.

Zoe turned on Gabrielle with cold fury. "What the _hell_ was that about?" she asked incredulously.

Gabrielle quivered in front of Zoe's furious glare. She had always thought of Zoe as her contemporary, even though she was seven years older, but now it felt like she was facing down her mother after being particularly naughty. "I – um – " she said, stumbling for an explanation. Exactly what the hell _had_ she been thinking? The only other person she had ever hit had been Jack, and that had been after catching him with Bianca. Rachel's actions were hardly in the same league. "I just – um – thought..."

"You just thought you'd get into a catfight with a subordinate in the ED?" Zoe asked, marching Gabrielle into the office they shared with Frank. Technically, Gabrielle held a superior position to her – Gabrielle was a Head of Department, whereas Zoe was merely 2IC – but right now, Gabrielle needed a serious dressing-down from someone mature enough to recognise Gabrielle's behaviour for what it was – that of a jealous young woman lashing out at the woman the man she wanted was seeing. "Jesus, Gabrielle, you know she can have you charged for assault?" Gabrielle squirmed. "And not to mention how impressed do you think Jack _won't_ be when he finds out?"

"He should have told me about him and Rachel," Gabrielle said petulantly.

"Yes, he should have. But that's _all_ he should have done. They're both adults and Rachel's right – you had your chance. It's not either of their faults that you turned him down time after time and he decided he'd had enough and moved on with someone else. He shouldn't have put the three of you in that position but that's _all_ he did wrong, and you don't have the right to react that way. Honestly, if _I_ were Rachel, _I_ would be pressing charges," Zoe said. Not only had Gabrielle humiliated Rachel by striking her so publicly – and following a spat over a man, no less – but it had given Rachel exactly the kind of leverage she needed to come between the close bond Jack and Gabrielle shared because of Ben.

"I know," Gabrielle said in a small voice, already regretting what she had done – both getting in a spat with Rachel, let alone such a public one, as well as hitting her.

"I'll call Jack, let him know what's happened," Zoe said, thinking quickly. Gabrielle flashed her a worried look, and Zoe returned with a warning one of her own. "He'll calm her down, if he can, and right now that's your best bet for smoothing things over for her. And for Heaven's sake, start ringing up agencies. Something tells me she's not coming back."

Jack found her at Cougars, looking very morose and drinking a beer. "Don't you know it's bad form to drink alone," he said gently, easing into the chair next to her.

She sniffled. "Go away," she said, not sounding the least bit sincere.

"Like I'm leaving my girlfriend to cry into her beer after my ex hit her," Jack said. "C'mon, I'll take you home, you can get drunk there."

"I left all my stuff in my locker," she cried.

"Then give me your keys." Rachel handed over her locker keys and staff pass for good measure, and Jack gave her his car keys. "I'm parked just outside. I'll go and get your stuff for you if you wait for me, OK?" Rachel nodded, and Jack took off to the hospital.

He found Gabrielle in the staff room when he went in there to retrieve Rachel's things. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" he snarled, and Gabrielle flinched at the tone in his voice. "You'll be lucky if I can convince her not to press charges."

"I'd appreciate that," she said in a small voice.

"Don't think I'm doing this for you," he snapped. "I don't want to be caught up in some stupid petty catfight between you and Rachel, and I don't want Ben to get caught up in it, either. Jesus, Gabs, what were you thinking? You were mean and unprofessional and looked bloody childish. You were more mature when you were seventeen."

"If you'd been honest with me from the beginning, none of this would have happened."

"No, if _you_ had demonstrated a little honesty yourself, none of this would have happened," he countered. "I don't owe you any explanations for what I do in my private life. You yourself made that decision several months ago."

"Oh, yeah, Jack, bring it back to me, why don't you?" Gabrielle asked sarcastically. "How do you think Rachel would feel to know that – what did you say – none of this would have happened if I had been honest with you? So, what, if I had given you what you wanted in the first place, we would be together right now, if that's what you're saying?"

Jack shrugged. "I've got no idea what might have happened," he said. "All I know is _you_ made a decision and now you can wear the consequences – you had no right to expect me to wait for you to want the same thing I did. You just can't accept that I might be happy with someone who isn't you, can you? You didn't want me, but you _loved_ the idea that I would just wait around for you to want me."

"You know what I _don't_ love?" she had a go at him. "How bloody _arrogant_ you are. You _love_ the idea that all women are totally hot for you, don't you?" she challenged. "You couldn't _stand_ the fact that maybe I wouldn't put up with your crap. God, she must be a silly girl if she doesn't recognise that."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"It means you're with someone who's too young and naive to know you're a total player," Gabrielle yelled at him, pleased to get her anger and resentment out. "You seem to have a knack for going after such women, don't you?"

Jack's eyes flashed angrily at the reminder. He never liked to dredge up the reason for his initial breakup with Gabrielle, and he thought she had forgiven him already. "How dare you," he said coldly.

"How dare _I_? _You're_ the one who likes – a certain type of girl."

"I liked _you_," Jack informed her angrily. "I _loved_ you. And I tried everything I could to make you love me back. It's _not my fault_ that you didn't."

"I never loved you!" she yelled at him, pleased to see the look of devastation on his face when she flung the words at him. "I was just a stupid kid who didn't know the difference between love and bullshit manipulation." Jack lunged at her, taking her rather forcefully in his arms, pinning her arms behind her back, crushing her body against his. She recognised immediately the look in his eyes – she had seen it enough in him. He wanted her. "Go ahead," she spat, enjoying the power she had over him – it certainly made her feel better about the power _he_ had over _her_. "It's what you're good at."

The five words were what it took to bring Jack back to his senses. He roughly released her and took a step away from her, glad he hadn't given into his impulse to kiss her. "You never trusted me, did you?" he asked, his tone a mix of anger and hurt. "You never thought I'd changed." And he bolted from the room, shaking from how close he had come to betraying Rachel.

"You OK?" Rachel asked when Jack returned to his car. "You look unsettled."

"Had some words with Gabrielle," Jack said shortly. He hoped she couldn't pick up the smell of her on him; he was convinced he reeked of it. And what was worse – the same feeling of disgust he had felt when he'd cheated on Gabrielle were now mixed with feelings of longing. There was a part of him – albeit a very small part – that was sorry nothing had happened between him and Gabrielle. "Let's just go home."

He took Rachel back to her apartment and took her to bed with a roughness that eventually had her begging him to stop because he was hurting her. "Are you sure you're OK?" she asked tentatively. She had never seen that side of him before, and it scared her.

"Fine," he grunted, obviously lying. "I told you, I had a fight with Gabrielle. She had no right to hit you like that." He reached out and stroked her swollen cheek with a gentleness that completely belied his previous roughness. "Look, why don't we get out of here for a few days?" he suggested, thinking that right now, some time away from Gabrielle was exactly what he needed.

"Out of here?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah. You've got a sister in Melbourne, don't you? You mentioned you wanted to visit her. Why don't we take some time off and go down and see her. I never managed to get that far south."

"You're serious?" Rachel asked. She had hinted about that very thing but Jack had been less than enthusiastic, not wanting to take that much time away from Ben.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Because you said you didn't want to be that far away from Ben."

_Crap, I did too_, Jack remembered. And he _still_ didn't want to be that far away from Ben, but given the alternative was to be in close proximity to Gabrielle, it seemed like an acceptable trade-off. "I was just being a possessive dad," he said in what he hoped was the guilty smile of an overindulgent father instead of the guilty smile of a boyfriend attracted to his ex. "I could do with some time off," he repeated. "Why not?"

Rachel nodded, warming up to the idea. "Why not indeed?" she asked.

* * *

"I want to see Jack!" Travis screamed hysterically.

"He's not here," Gabrielle said. "He's not even in the state. He's gone to Melbourne with Rachel."

"Get him back."

"I'm trying," Gabrielle said through gritted teeth. Jack wasn't taking her calls, and she couldn't say she blamed him. They had said some nasty things to each other the last time they had spoken, and while she had no idea how he felt, she knew she regretted her words. "He isn't taking my calls or returning my messages." She suspected he was deleting them without listening to them.

"Try harder," Travis said shortly. "Sorry," he said contritely when he saw the irritated look on Gabrielle's face. "I just... really need to see him."

He was dying, Gabrielle could see, although he was trying to hide it. He looked sicker than usual and she doubted he had much more time. If he died before Jack got back, she doubted Jack would ever get over it. "I'll keep trying," she promised. "But he doesn't want to speak to me. We had a fight over his relationship with Rachel."

"I don't like her," Travis declared.

"She's a sweet girl," Gabrielle couldn't help but defend the woman.

"I'm sure she is, but she's totally wrong for him," Travis said. "I see – the way he looks at you – the way he looked at you," he corrected. "He doesn't look at her like that. He doesn't care about her the way he cares about you." This time, he didn't correct the 'cares' into past tense.

"I wouldn't know about that," Gabrielle said, trying not to take his words to heart. It was wrong of her to have feelings for another woman's boyfriend, regardless of the history they shared.

"I do," Travis said knowingly. "You guys – you were made for each other. He doesn't have that with her. Please – can you try and call him?" he asked, his voice suddenly fading.

"Of course." Gabrielle reached for his hand, but he had already slipped into unconscious – weather it was asleep or passed out from the chronic pain he was in, she didn't know, but she stayed with him for a little while longer, thinking that without Jack around – the only thing he wanted – unconscious could only be a good thing.

"He wants to see Jack," Gabrielle said to Zoe a little while later. "He's dying, and he knows he's dying, and I think all he wants to is to see Jack again. And I can't get hold of him."

"He'll never get over it if Travis dies before he gets back," Zoe said, echoing Gabrielle's silent thoughts. "Look, leave it with me. He might be more responsive if it's someone other than you trying to contract him."

"Jack, it's for you, it's the ED," Rachel said.

"Leave it," he grunted, distracted by the bare skin under her shirt. He had no desire to speak to Gabrielle.

"It's like the fourth time they've called," Rachel argued. She didn't want him speaking to Gabrielle any more than he did, but there was a change it was something other than her, and he should at least hear out the person trying to call him.

"Fine," Jack said, taking the phone off her. "Listen, you stupid woman, I do not want to speak to you," was the first thing he said, not waiting to hear who it was on the phone. "Stop calling me."

"Jack, it's Zoe," came Zoe's voice. "It's not about Gabrielle. It's Travis." Jack gripped the phone when he heard his friend's name mentioned. "He's dying, Jack, and he wants to see you. I thought you would like to know."

Guilt flooded Jack; he'd been ignoring calls from Gabrielle and the ED thinking she wanted to spoil his good time with his girlfriend when they'd been trying to call him to tell him Travis's condition was deteriorating. "Of course," he said. "I'll get the first flight back."

"What was that about?" Rachel asked when he hung up the phone and got out of bed, frantically packing.

"Zoe," he said. "It's about my friend Travis. He's dying. I need to get back to him." Rachel nodded, vaguely recalling the strange, nervous kid that Jack was so fond of, even though she couldn't work out what kind of connection someone like Jack had with someone like Travis. She nodded, knowing she couldn't ask Jack to stay away – he would never forgive himself, or her – and trying not to feel jealous that Travis Knight was yet one more connection that Gabrielle shared with Jack – and that he wouldn't share with her.


End file.
